


A Game Of Fantastical Myths

by EternalSailorNeptune_53



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mirai Nikki, Dangan Ronpa & Super Dangan Ronpa 2 Spoilers, Dangan Ronpa Spoilers, Gen, Super Dangan Ronpa 2 Spoilers, Survival Game, mirai nikki au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-04-23 20:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 35
Words: 170,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4891582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalSailorNeptune_53/pseuds/EternalSailorNeptune_53
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kiyotaka Ishimaru discovers his phone has the ability to predict the future, he finds himself locked in a Survival Game of life or death against 10 others with the same ability for the title of godhood. With a mysterious ally by his side, will he be the last standing? Or will he be forced to see a "DEAD END" in his future?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: A New Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FlameEmber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameEmber/gifts).



> This whole thing is based on a conversation I had with my Tumblr RP partner, Vivi, aka fellow user "FlameEmber" (she plays Ishimaru; I play Mukuro). She mentioned wanting to RP a Mirai Nikki AU, and poof! This story came to my head. Also, I should mention that Vivi's the one who came up with her muse's Diary, and I just made the rest after I made mine. I'm not gonna tell you who the other Diary Holders are; that's something you lovelies have to discover on your own (that way, you'll find out who dies without having time to expect it~). What I will tell you is Kamukura/Hinata was First, and Junko was Second in their original timeline.
> 
> With that being said, enjoy the story! Updates will come as soon as I can, but the first few chapters oughta be pretty soon. Stay Freeeeesh!

“How boring… To think we all went through that for a fate like this…”

In another dimension quite alien from the being’s former one, protracted locks of pitch black flowed around the mystic throne of great proportions. Blood red eyes viewed and perceived a violaceous room, barren save for its dark walls and architectures.

The being appeared to be a boy no older than seventeen years, dark flowing hair waving in front of his face against an imaginary wind. Over his body was nothing more than a tattered hooded cloak the color of night. He viewed a screen, projecting past memories of carnage and killing; of horror and bloodshed. But despite it all, the being only looked at it with utter apathy.

“If this is what being God meant, then I’d have never bothered with that stupid game,” he sighed. “I wonder how long it’s been since that fateful bloodbath I conquered?”

The corpses of several unknown high school students playing on screen no longer meant anything to him. But, when one certain image was displayed, the deity felt a sudden twinge of interest amongst his inner sea of indifference. On the screen was a dismantled classroom containing young girl with large strawberry blonde pigtails, cackling mad above the bloodied corpse of another girl with short black hair as she herself held the weapon of murder.

The image of the pigtailed girl made the deity feel something for once in a very long time: melancholy. The feeling only grew when images on images later, the girl with the pigtails met her own cruel demise right in front of his former self.

“I thought you of all people would make it out… Junko,” the deity sighed, looking at the girl’s corpse's image one last time. “You were always the superior player, after all. Even getting rid of the two people you held dearest to you.”

Suddenly, the deity sprung an idea. When the idea was too far gone to be taken back, he leaped up to a high altitude until he reached far beyond the walls of his realm, filled with absolutely nothing but pure darkness followed by some sort of a spacial realm. Within seconds, the deity was transported to a specific point in time, viewing the process as if it were nothing extraordinary.

He'd managed to have gone back to the exact point before Junko encountered the girl who would lose her life at her red-manicured hands. The deity stayed remotely hidden, but when Junko looked at her rectangular dark pink flip cell phone with a devious grin, she gasped when she felt her body be pulled into a separate and smaller, yet equally bloodied and ruined, darkened room.

"Hey!" she proclaimed angrily, "Who the hell did that?!"

"Me," the deity answered, making his ominous presence known to Junko.

"Hmm? And just who are you, sir?" Junko questioned, suddenly erudite with a teacher's ponytail and glasses. "I can't say I recall ever seeing you in my life before."

"Let's just say you already know me, Second. However, I now go by Izuru. Izuru Kamukura, that is."

"Upupu, nice to meet you, Kamukura!" Junko chirped, now cutesy with curved pigtails. "Oh, won't you tell me what you want with me? I'm so curious that I just gotta know!"

“I’m asking you for a favor,” Kamukura told her. “In the timeline I’m from, this whole Survival Game has ended with me as the victor.”

“You?” Junko wondered with her normal expression, only more confused. “Can’t say I’ve seen you around during everything. How did a no-name like you beat everyone? Beat _me_ , even?!”

“That’s a story for later. Right now, I’m asking you to do something for me. And knowing you, I’d say it’s an offer you can’t refuse.”

“Oh really? What have ya got in store for me, Kamukura?”

“How does helping me start a whole new Survival Game with you by my side sound?”

Junko blinked with surprise at Kamukura’s offer. On the one hand, the thought of bringing despair and carnage to a newer pack of unsuspecting victims sounded like her ideal fun day, but on the other, she seemed to be having fun with the one she was in right now. Allowing a skeptical “hmmm…” pass her nostrils, Junko raised an eyebrow at the bored Kamukura.

“Tempting, tempting, tempting…” Junko pondered teasingly. “What’s in it for me exactly? Why should _I_ help _you_?”

“Because, being God isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Such a bore, it is…” Kamukura sighed. “Not only that, but you’re the only able-bodied person I know that can make things at least somewhat interesting.”

“True, no one else has my taste in fun. Not even the conformist I’m forced to call my sister. What else?”

“If you agree to help me, I will grant you half of my powers until I find a new successor. That way, you’ll not only be half-immortal, but you’ll also be nearly as powerful as the God you’re talking to.”

The girl’s sky blue eyes lit up with wonder at the offer, her lips pursing into a small “O” shape. Her luscious lips stretched into a mischievous grin as the offer made even more promising thoughts cross her mind. With that, Junko cackled in her typical fashion until she found herself drooling with mania.

“So, I assume we have a deal, Junko?” Kamukura questioned, offering his hand.

“Yes, we do!” Junko agreed, taking the palm and shaking it until her face stretched with pain when Kamukura jabbed a sharp hand into the female’s abdomen.

Kamukura removed his hand after a few seconds, the gushes of blood fading from his limb and Junko’s midsection until they were rendered non-existent. A newfound feeling coursed through Junko’s veins; a feeling of pure exhilaration as she felt stronger than ever before.

Junko’s new associate opened an erratic pathway in the ceiling that seemingly contained the very cosmos themselves. Kamukura offered another hand and asked if she was ready, but just as she was about to take the palm with a yes, Junko’s mind flashed to another person and idea. With that, she refused the hand, confusing Kamukura greatly.

“I’ll be right back,” Junko told him, running out of the room.

In another room of destruction, a girl with bobbed black hair and a tattered white short-sleeved school blouse and dark colored skirt was locked in combat with a tall snake-like guy with frisky body-length dark hair and a long tongue. Currently, the girl was dodging the taller male’s every move, both holding onto their flip cell phones for dear life.

“Come on, Diary, don’t fail me now!” the girl pleaded, looking at the screen on her black phone and skimming through each message.

“What’s wrong, Ikusaba-san?” the male teased with a hiss, “Is your Diary not giving you any good predictions? Quite a shame.”

The girl known as Ikusaba continued to dodge every attack the guy was throwing at her. In the nick of time, her cell phone made an obnoxious sound not unlike that of a static interference. One look brought subtle determination to her eyes as she unsheathed the knife in the scabbard strapped to her thigh.

“Game over, Madarai-kun!” Ikusaba proclaimed, thrusting the knife deep into the unsuspecting opponent’s cell phone, causing pieces of wire, glass, and plastic to chip out of the damaged device.

Madarai stared at his broken cell phone in disbelief, the words “DEAD END” vaguely appearing on the damaged screen. Within seconds, his body started to twist and shift until it was nothing more than a vortex of what used to be his form. The vortex imploded so much that Madarai faded from existence, leaving behind his broken Future Diary and a victorious Ikusaba.

The girl in question, however, was neither horrified nor elated at seeing yet another Diary Holder meet their demise. Instead, she left the ruined classroom with something else similar on her mind. But, Ikusaba was cut from her thoughts when Junko surprisingly ambushed her, holding a cloth to the girl’s nose and mouth until she’d passed out from the fumes.

“Take a little rest, Mukuro-chan~” Junko purred, dragging the girl with her. “We’re just gonna take a little detour.”

Minutes later, Junko arrived in the smaller room with the unconscious Mukuro in her arms. Kamukura looked at the girl as if she were some strange alien from a distant planet, then giving Junko a blank stare that hinted at confusion.

“Trust me, we’ll need her,” Junko insisted. “For once, my sister will actually be good for something!”

“Are you sure, Second?” Kamukura wondered.

“Of course! I’ll explain everything later.”

Kamukura nodded without any particular cares and reopened the sky portal of infinite dark space, grabbing onto Junko’s wrist tightly and looking straight up.

“Don’t let go of her,” he told Junko, her perky nod signalling for him to ascend through the portal of darkness, leaving behind the area of utter ruin and bloodshed.

* * *

 When Mukuro at last awakened, she was surprised to find herself in a mysterious room tinted with a strange violet light. In front of her was a large upside down dome made of a strange rock, the throne inside occupied by an enlarged Kamukura. Floating beside him with her new powers was a crown-bearing Junko, which surprised Mukuro even more.

“Well well well!” Junko proclaimed in the “high and mighty” tone of an arrogant ruler, “Look who’s finally awake! So nice of you to join us, big sister!”

“Junko-chan?” Mukuro wondered, “Where am I? How did I get here?”

“My throne room, and your sister brought you here,” Kamukura answered, looking down at the disoriented Mukuro. “I am the God of this realm, Izuru Kamukura.”

“The God?” Mukuro wondered before realizing something odd. “But how?! I’m still alive, so you couldn’t have possibly won the Survival Game!”

“Oh, but I did win,” Kamukura explained nonchalantly. “All I did was rip you and your sister from the past and bring you here to the present. At least I’m not as bored now as I’ve been for who knows how long.”

“What do you want with us? Explain yourself, Kamukura-sama.”

Kamukura changed from his giant form of divinity into a brief swarm of darkness, shrinking himself to Mukuro’s size as he met her face to face, Junko right beside him after she floated downwards.

“Ikusaba, we’re going to play a little game,” Kamukura explained without much emotion. “You along with many new oblivious pawns are going to be a part of it.”

“In other words!” Junko beamed, now adorable and perky, “We’re gonna start a whole new Survival Game with a bunch of new friends!”

“Another Survival Game?!” Mukuro gasped, “N-No, I refuse! After what happened in the one you took me from, I will not subject myself to another ridiculous test.”

“Aww, why not, big sister?” Junko pouted, still cutesy. “Oh! Is it because of Naegi~?”

A nerve was struck inside of Mukuro as Junko’s words pierced her heart. Kamukura had the screen project a memory of a boy with light brown hair and olive green eyes jumping in front of an unsuspecting Mukuro, taking a mortal stab to the heart instead of her. When the clip version of Naegi dropped his phone, the static-covered screen on the device read “17:30: [Bad Luck] Took a stab wound for Ikusaba-san. At least she gets to live on now…” above the words “DEAD END”.

Just as the memory version of her had, Mukuro stared at the screen with horror and sadness, tears streaming down her face as she shut her eyes tight so as not to witness anymore of the traumatic scene. Off the screen went at Kamukura’s command, and he looked at Mukuro without any significant facial expressions (in contrast to Junko, who had a delighted grin on her face).

“You can fix this, Ikusaba,” Kamukura told her. “If you participate in the new Survival Game, you can make all of that go away. As if it never happened in the first place.”

“Make it all… go away?” Mukuro wondered.

“You got it, Muki!” Junko assured her, putting an arm around her twin sister’s shoulder. “As you know, if you kill everybody, you get to be the new Goddess!”

“Does that mean I can save Naegi-kun?” Mukuro asked. “I can bring him back?"

“Well, Ikusaba, you see--” Kamukura started.

“Duh, Mukuro!” Junko interrupted. “A God can do anything! So what’s stopping you from bringing back your beau?”

“Enoshima, wait,” Kamukura said, “there’s one little thing you--”

“I’ll do it,” Mukuro agreed without letting Izuru finish. “I’ll partake in the new Survival Game and take your place, Kamukura-kun.”

“YEAH, THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ ABOUT!” Junko cheered, her voice gruff as she made hand gestures with her crossed arms. “BIG SIS IS IN THE GAAAAME!”

“Very well then,” Kamukura sighed. “Once the game has started, your old Diary will be restarted so you can have all new predictions on it. Since you’re already familiar with the rules, there’s no need to be redundant.”

“Ya ready to be a Goddess, Mukuro?” Junko asked her sister.

“Whatever it takes to make things right,” Mukuro agreed with little emotion in her tone.

“Good. Be on the lookout for any and all Diary Holders. One wrong move, and you'll have met a premature Dead End,” Kamukura warned, making Mukuro fade out until she was no longer in the room. “Enoshima, come with me. We’ve got work to do in lieu of the Survival Game.”

Ascending with an ecstatic Junko back to the throne, Kamukura began work on a whole new test of skills and wits that would determine his rightful successor.

Ten unknown objects apparated as Kamukura and Junko started conversing and tinkering with them. Both knew that when they were done, everything would start to fall into place according to plan.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know not everyone's named after an Olympian Deity, but I've decided to align them with certain ones when their number is revealed (Greek Olympians only; it's a change from the Roman Consentes Dii). For this chapter: Kamukura Izuru = Zeus/Jupiter, and Enoshima Junko = Hera/Juno. I'll say who's who after each chapter from now on, so I'll see you next time!


	2. Day 1: Let The Survival Game Begin!

_Scarlet, dartboard-like eyes fluttered open to yet again, a mysterious throne room. The boy they belonged to sighed and began walking forward towards the gargantuan throne within the stone-covered barrier underneath._

_"Are you still there, Kamukura-kun?" he asked, looking up._

_As if on cue, the eerie Izuru Kamukura took form inside of his throne, his size at least fifty times larger than the raven-haired boy below him. Equally red eyes blinked with apathy as they looked deep into their near twin pair._

_"What is it this time, Ishimaru?" Kamukura asked._

_"Besides the fact that I've been taken to this room five nights in a row?" Ishimaru wondered. "I'm starting to believe you might have something to do with this."_

_"Gee, what could have possibly given you that idea?" Kamukura asked sarcastically. "Anyways, I keep bringing you here for a reason."_

_"What kind of reason? I believe it would have been best to tell me this on Night 1."_

_"Ugh, I guess having an exceptional talent means you're also superficial and bothersome. Look, you'll find out eventually, Ishimaru. If you're just gonna stand there and annoy me, then I'm sending you back."_

_"Very well. But I will find out why you keep bringing me here."_

_"How about I give you a hint? It's all in your phone."_

_"My cell phone? Now how could my phone--"_

_"You'll find out very soon. Just don't forget what I said and keep an eye on it."_

All of a sudden, Ishimaru was shrouded in a blurry darkness shroud until his eyes bolted open. No longer was he in Kamukura's throne room, but rather, he was back in his school dorm room. Ishimaru slid a few fingers across his forehead, beads of sweat following the digits.

He remembered what Kamukura told him in his dream. Opening the drawer, he took out his white flip cell phone with a few crimson stripes, Ishimaru looked through the device for a clue to his dream predicament. But all he found were basic phone apps and his digital notebook, containing entries of either small reminders or his personal thoughts and daily opinions.

"Nothing here," Ishimaru sighed. He looked at the clock on his phone, the time reading "06:00". "Well, now that I'm up, I might as well start getting dressed!"

Closing his phone, Ishimaru got out of bed and started removing his baby blue pajamas. He gathered one of the identical pristine white school uniforms from his closet and started putting on the pants. Wrapping fresh sarashi around his torso, Ishimaru put his thick white gakuran on and buttoned it up tightly. Lastly, he slid his traditional armband of duty up until it was secure on his upper left arm.

"Breakfast doesn't start for another hour, so I'll keep myself preoccupied until then," Ishimaru decided, turning on his room lights and going over to the textbooks on his desk.

Ishimaru looked back at the phone on his nightstand, sheathing the device into his pocket until later. For now, he started to look over his things once again before class.

* * *

 Near the end of breakfast around 7:45 am, Ishimaru continued to inspect his phone. No matter how much he looked through, all he found were his minor diary entries in his notebook. Suddenly, a tap on his arm snapped him out of his stupor. Turning around, he saw the perpetrator was his dear friend, Mondo Oowada.

"Oi, Kyoudai," Mondo said. "S'wrong with ya? You've been out of it all mornin'."

"Sorry, Mondo," Ishimaru apologized. "I just had this peculiar dream last night, and it's been on my mind quite a bit."

"Is it the dream where yer in that weird throne room and talkin' to a giant kid with long hair?"

"Yes! How did you know, Kyoudai?"

"Because you've been tellin' Chihiro and I about it since Saturday. What gives, bro?"

"I don't know myself. But this morning, the dream told me a solution is in my cellular device!"

With that bit of news being said, Mondo looked at his friend like he had a second head. Ishimaru insisted it was the truth, but Mondo's seeds of doubt made him shrug his broad shoulders with half-belief.

Looking at his phone clock, Ishimaru gasped at seeing the numbers "07:50" at the top. Gathering his things, he bid his best friend farewell and started heading to class (despite it not starting for another fifteen minutes).

Walking through the corridors at a moderate and even pace, Ishimaru looked at his phone and typed a quick message in the notebook, recounting how Mondo didn't believe his dream at all. Afterwards, he hid the phone in his pocket after failing to find a clue. By 7:53, he arrived in class, only to discover one other person had beaten him to class. Although severely disappointed in himself at the cause, Ishimaru recognized the reading student as Mukuro Ikusaba, the SHSL Soldier. When he set his belongings down, Mukuro looked up from her textbook and spotted him, delivering a gaze void of feeling.

"Erm, good morning... Ikusaba-kun, was it?" Ishimaru asked.

"Yes, you have the right person," Mukuro corroborated calmly. "May I help you?"

"No, that's okay. I'm just making sure I have the correct person."

"Well, you do. Is that all?"

Ishimaru responded with a nod, prompting Mukuro to resume reading and pay attention to nothing else. When Ishimaru sat down, he too tended to his studies in the seat two seats diagonal to the equally indifferent girl. Suddenly, an odd, yet audible interference noise erupted from Ishimaru's pocket, making the male take the phone out and look at it. Unbeknownst to him, the noise caught Mukuro's attention completely.

"'08:20: Kyoudai has fallen asleep during an important lecture. How irresponsible of him! He needs this vital knowledge!'?" Ishimaru read to himself. "Odd, I don't recall writing this in my journal. And it isn't even 8:20 yet!"

Ishimaru noticed another sudden entry below the first. It read "09:15: Chihiro-kun is being picked on by a couple of ne'er do-wells. I'll see to it they get two weeks of detention!". The Hall Monitor blinked with utter surprise at the message, but quickly dismissed it as some sort of bizarre texting joke right after. When he turned around, he could have sworn Mukuro had been staring at him and his phone with a chilly gaze. But as quickly as he'd looked, she'd gone back to studying. When he stopped paying her any heed, Ishimaru remained oblivious to Mukuro looking at him once again.

During class at around 8:19 am, Ishimaru studiously listened to the instructor's words and jotted down each and every note. All of a sudden, he heard a low snore coming from his left. Worried, he looked in the direction to see the sleeper was none other than Mondo, pompadour bent against the desk during his deep sleep.

 _"Kyoudai sleeping during class is certainly nothing out of the ordinary..."_ Ishimaru thought with disdain that turned to shock when he noticed it was 8:20 am, _"but that cryptic message! It's come true!"_

Turning to the desk, he quietly tapped the sleeping Mondo a few times until the Gang Leader woke up. Disoriented, Mondo shot an annoyed glance at Ishimaru, who merely gave him a head shake of disapproval.

After Mondo resumed tuning the teacher out, Ishimaru nearly jumped out of his seat when he caught Mukuro Ikusaba giving him a frigid glare, turning back to the teacher after a good minute.

 _"Why on Earth does Ikusaba-kun keep giving me those dirty looks?!"_ Ishimaru wondered in his head, _"She's acting as if I've done something horrible to her!"_

For the duration of class, Ishimaru kept to his notes and the lesson, feeling the coldness of Mukuro's eyes creeping on his back.

* * *

 After the bell finally rang, Ishimaru gathered his notes neatly and began making his leave. On his way out, Mukuro stopped next to him, the cold stare not leaving her eyes.

"Don't let your guard down," she warned out of the blue, "even for a second."

She left without any further words, leaving a more than confused Ishimaru behind. His black boots taking his body through the hallways of Hope's Peak, Ishimaru's mind was currently on the foreshadowing that happened during class. He tried and tried to convince himself it was some sort of coincidence or practical joke occurring.

On his way to the Disciplinary Committee room, Ishimaru took out his cell phone yet again so he could look at the other mysterious message.

"It says now, Chihiro-kun is supposed to be ambushed by troublemakers," Ishimaru pondered. "Hopefully, the first time was just a coincidence--"

"Help, someone help!" a frightened voice cried.

Running away from three bullies was, as the cell phone said, Chihiro Fujisaki, who had some parts of his skirt and jacket torn at the seams. In addition, he had quite a few cuts on his face and skin. Ishimaru swallowed his shock for a moment, rushing over to Chihiro so his friend could reach safety. The bullies caught up and stopped in front of the fierce Ishimaru.

"Hey, eyebrows!" one of the bullies exclaimed, "You've got some business of ours behind you!"

"Yeah, now step aside before we make you!" another bully demanded.

"P-Please don't let them come n-near me, Ishimaru-kun!" Chihiro whimpered. "Th-They tried to take my laptop, and started hurting me when I said n-no...!"

"I won't," Ishimaru answered, grabbing the triad of bullies and dragging them straight to the fifth floor. "You three just earned yourselves a one-way trip to the Headmaster's office, _and_ a fortnight of detention for assaulting an innocent student!"

Ishimaru's grip on the bullies was strong, so escaping was near impossible for them. As Ishimaru marched off to Headmaster Kirigiri's office, Chihiro watched his friend take his tormentors away to their punishment.

When Ishimaru walked out of the Headmaster's office moments later, his phone made another loud static. He took it out and saw two new messages on the screen. Both were about Chihiro, one saying he was right around the corner wanting to thank him for his good deed.

"Hmm, I don't see--" Ishimaru started until he yelped in surprise at spotting his friend right in front of him. "Gah! Chihiro, you're really here!"

"S-Sorry!" Chihiro squeaked. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just came here to--"

"--Thank me for punishing those bullies of yours?"

"Y-Yes! How did you know I was going to say that?"

"Lucky guess? After all, I did take a great weight off of your shoulders, did I not?"

"Oh, you did! So, once again, thanks for helping me, Ishimaru-kun. I'm very thankful."

Chihiro started walking off afterwards. Ishimaru was about to go his own way until he remembered the other message about Chihiro. Looking at his phone, he saw the message reading "09:50: Chihiro-kun tripped and fell down the stairs halfway to the fourth floor. Someone immediately called paramedics as I went to help him.". Looking up, he saw Chihiro nearing the halfway point of the staircase, ready to meet his secret fate. And with the message from the future in mind, Ishimaru's face turned blue with panic.

"CHIHIRO-KUN!" Ishimaru shouted with horror, rushing to the stairs and grabbing Chihiro by the wrist just as the Hacker started to lose his balance.

"Wah!" Chihiro yelped as Ishimaru pulled him back to safety. "Ishimaru-kun, what's wrong?"

"Umm, I just..." Ishimaru hesitated, trying to think up an excuse. "I thought it would be nice of me to... walk you to your next class! Yes, that's it!"

"Oh! How nice of you, Ishimaru-kun! Thank you so much!"

"The pleasure's all mine, my friend!"

Ishimaru linked his arm firmly in Chihiro's, holding on to prevent him from sustaining a serious stair fall injury. When they reached the bottom, Ishimaru shepherded his friend to the correct classroom around the corner and dropped him off at the door just in time for class.

After Chihiro went in, Ishimaru diverted his attention to his phone. The augur message that foretold Chihiro's accident changed to one where he's safely guided to class with a loud static noise, so he returned to his home page and put the electronic away. Walking towards the Disciplinary Committee, Ishimaru decided to resume his day and ignore anymore supernatural messages his phone was trying to tell him.

* * *

 By the end of the day, the clock struck 3:00 pm. Ishimaru stayed by in the classroom to clean the board before he would leave. Once every speck of chalk dust was cleaned off of the hardened earthen material, Ishimaru placed the eraser down and went to gather his things. Suddenly, his phone once again made the loud static interference noise, signalling another mysterious message.

“What could it be this time?” Ishimaru sighed, flipping open the phone. “My cell phone has been giving me strange messages all day.”

Skimming the words, Ishimaru saw a new message, which read “15:20: Kyoudai is in the school’s courtyard smoking. Doesn’t he know that’s bad for his health?!”. The Hall Monitor closed the phone and put it in his pocket, gathering his things and leaving the classroom. Somewhere down the hall, he saw Mondo talking to Leon briefly until the latter male left. It was then Ishimaru caught up with his friend and stopped him from going any further.

“Ah, Taka!” Mondo sputtered out. “S’wrong? What the hell’s with the dirty-ass look?”

“Hand them over,” Ishimaru demanded with furrowed thick brows and a frown, holding out his palm and drawing the fingers back a few times.

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Surrender the cigarettes, Mondo! I’ve told you time and time again that smoking is bad for your health, so you shouldn’t be doing it at all! Let alone in the school’s courtyard!”

Mondo let out a groan of annoyance and fished his long black Crazy Diamonds jacket for the box in question. He reluctantly handed the box over to Ishimaru, who confiscated and hid them so his friend wouldn’t get them.

“Thank you,” Ishimaru said.

“Geez, why do ya have ta be such a buzz--” Mondo was about to complain until he realized something strange. “...Hang on a sec. How did you know I even _had_ cigs ta begin with? Actually; how the fuck did you know I was gonna smoke in the _courtyard_?”

“I, umm…” Ishimaru gulped, searching for an excuse that didn’t involve having a “possessed” cell phone. “It was just a lucky guess. Don’t you think it’s normal for one’s best friend to know such things about them?”

“The cigs, prolly. But, unless yer actually the SHSL Psychic or somethin’, there’s no way you could’ve known when and where I was gonna use ‘em. What’s goin’ on, Kyoudai?”

“Well, I… you see-- oh!” Ishimaru piped up, looking at his watch. “Will you look at the time? I really must get to studying! Farewell, Kyoudai!”

Speed walking through the hallways with gusto, Ishimaru managed to leave a suspicious Mondo in the dust. His phone made the bizarre interference sound, which he saw made a new, more positive message saying "15:20: Kyoudai decided not to smoke, instead going off somewhere on his Kawasaki. At least he isn't damaging his lungs...". Right after, Ishimaru stashed the phone away in his pocket. The Hall Monitor made it back to his dorm room, shutting the door tightly behind him. He put his belongings on the desk neatly and sat on his bed.

Ishimaru pulled the white and red flip phone out of his pocket. He stared at all the messages he’d received over the course of the day. In every one, he noticed that they were all either about Mondo, or about Chihiro. He hadn’t received any messages about anyone else but those two. But regardless of whom they were about, Ishimaru felt more than exasperated about the day’s events.

“I must be going crazy or something…” he sighed, sprawling out on his bed as the back of his gakuran made contact with the silky and freshly washed sheets. A thought crossed Ishimaru’s mind, making him remember what his dream told him. “Could this link to my strange dream? Kamukura-kun did say it was all in my phone.”

Ishimaru decided the only way to determine it was to speak to Kamukura himself. But first, he went all the way over to his desk and started getting to work on his studies to make sure something like a nap didn’t interfere with his schoolwork.

* * *

 It was 5:30 in the evening when Ishimaru finished his assignments and studying for the day. So now, it was time to execute his crazy idea. Thankfully, he was feeling somewhat weary, so sleeping shouldn’t prove to be a problem. Removing his knee-length black boots until only his black socks were on his feet, Ishimaru leaned back on the top of his bed in a position not unlike that of a corpse awaiting burial. Closing his eyes shut, the Hall Monitor relaxed his stiff body until eventually, his mind finally reached REM and was transported elsewhere.

When he opened his eyes again, Ishimaru was once again in the violet-lit throne room belonging to Kamukura. He checked his pocket and was relieved to still have his bizarre cell phone on him so he could properly interrogate the apparent figment of his dreams.

“Kamukura-kun!” Ishimaru shouted from the bottom of the throne. “We need to talk at once!”

Just as he had last time, Kamukura took form from a shroud of darkness. The giant figment sat in his throne with one leg crossed, boredom evident in his blood red eyes. One look at Ishimaru made him roll his orbs with a sigh, deciding to humor the annoyance by acknowledging him.

“What is it this time, Ishimaru?” Kamukura asked. “Have you finally figured out why you keep seeing me?”

“Sort of. Why does my phone keep telling me these strange messages from the future?”

Kamukura blinked once, his face staying remotely the same. Though if one were to look closer, they would have sworn they saw a smile teasing his lips, only for them to refuse the advance. Kamukura’s lack of answer made Ishimaru more tense since the reason he slept in the first place was to come see him.

“So, why do I keep getting these bizarre predictions?” Ishimaru interrogated. “Why does my phone suddenly have the ability to predict the future?!”

“Oh, hush,” Kamukura said. “Don’t act as if you’re the first to ask that question lately. In fact, you could say you’re my… ‘Sixth’.”

“Sixth?” Ishimaru wondered, snapping from the name for a brief moment when the scenery around him became brighter.

No longer was Ishimaru at the foot of a circular stone throne. Now, he was standing below a bluer sky on one of several rings within a unique giant loop. Not only that, but around him were ten people who vaguely appeared to be around his age. But due to the darkness of their silhouettes, Ishimaru was unable to figure out their exact identities. Ishimaru looked on his arms and legs, seeing his own identity was thankfully hidden as well. Looking to his right, he noticed one that seemed familiar from the short haircut and petite figure, but the minute they caught Ishimaru looking, they only gave him a sideways glance and turned away.

"So, yet another pawn has been taken into this game,” a deep masculine voice said in the thirteenth ring. “Whoever you may be, I shall be the one to conquer this provocation!”

“Now now,” the person in the eleventh ring hushed. “How can you be so sure you’ll be the one to rise to the top? After all, it could be me who attains godhood.”

“Godhood?” Ishimaru pondered. “What on Earth are you talking about… whoever you are?”

“Oh, I could easily tell you, my dear,” the velvety feminine voice replied with a smile behind darkness. “However, that would mean I’d have to kill you sooner than I intend to. And we wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?”

“K-Kill me?!” Ishimaru gasped, feeling the air leave his lungs at the words. “Isn’t-- Isn’t that a bit much for a simple question?!”

“So, you really don’t know, do you?” another light voice wondered with disgust in their tone. “Ugh, I figured someone like you would know what’s going on, Sixth.”

“Hey, if the guy doesn’t know, then he doesn’t know,” a lighter masculine voice said with a shrug. “Though, c’mon! He probably ain’t gonna last a damn day let alone ninety!” they cackled confidently.

Appearing in his rightful throne was Kamukura, who was still in his gargantuan size instead of being equal to the sizes of the eleven below him. Beside him was Junko, who, unlike her deity of a master, was normal sized like the shrouded others. For some reason, Junko looked at the individual next to Ishimaru on his right, and said individual nodded as if agreeing to something unsaid.

“Looks like everyone’s here, Izuru!” Junko declared.

“Good,” Kamukura said. “Now I can explain the rules of the game one more time so none of you will forget.”

“Kamukura-kun, what are all of these people doing here?!” Ishimaru asked loudly. “And what’s this talk of a ‘game’? Isn’t this just some sort of dream I’m having?!”

“When did I ever say my realm was ever a _dream_?” Kamukura questioned rhetorically. “As for the game, I was just getting to that.” He turned to everyone and cleared his throat, gazing stoically with a firmly calm voice. “If I’m correct, each and everyone of you should have some sort of device that predicts the future, right?”

Everyone in the rings took out their respective devices. While most of them were a simple flip cell phone, some were something different. Nonetheless, each item had one thing in common: they could predict the future somehow. Seeing eleven different items, Kamukura continued speaking.

“The things you hold before you are known as ‘Future Diaries’,” Kamukura announced. “Each one tells the future in different ways, methods, and time intervals. Regardless, they all not only carry at least one weakness, but also hold important value. Be sure your Diaries don’t break, or get destroyed.”

“Wh-Why not?” a sensitive and high-pitched voice asked with fear.

“Because, Seventh,” Kamukura answered, “your Diary is bound to your existence. In other words, if your Diary is destroyed, so is your entire being.”

“So, we all die if we’re not careful with our phones?!” another Diary Holder gasped with horror.

“Correct, Third. However, that brings me to my next point. As some of you know, Second and I have proposed something called the ‘Survival Game’. Just as the name implies, the last one still living gets to take my place in this boring throne of ‘godhood’.”

“Basically, kill everyone else, and you get to be a God or Goddess!” Junko summarized. “Just make sure no one does you in or wrecks your Diary, got it? If you do, your Diary will say ‘Dead End’, and if that’s not prevented, your ass is grass!”

Murmurs, sounds, and cried of surprise and terror filled the room from the less-informed and thin-skinned Holders, while Ishimaru was more than stunned, shocked, and fearful of what he’d been subjected to. To his right, whomever was presumably Fifth was void of emotion at the rules, only giving apathetic stares at Ishimaru, then back to Kamukura and Junko.

 _“How could this not scare them even a little bit?!”_ Ishimaru thought. _“We’re all supposed to KILL each other!”_

“One more thing,” Kamukura spoke. “Partaking in this Survival Game is mandatory. If you do not participate… let’s just say it will lead to severe consequences down the road. Does anyone have any further questions or concerns?”

“I do,” a weary and soft voice interjected. “How are we gonna know who’s a Diary Holder and who’s not?”

“Excellent question, Fourth,” Kamukura said. “And all I have to say about it is to use your Diary to your advantage. If you can spot someone with a Future Diary, then they’re in the game. When that happens, you can either kill them physically, or destroy their Diary. Any other questions?”

The entire room stayed silent, prompting Kamukura to nod once before dismissing everyone. The moment he and Junko vanished, the stressed Diary Holders started fizzing out and disappearing one by one.

“Damn it… I was hopin' it was some kinda sick joke the first time he said it!” one of the Holders whimpered, tears streaming down their hidden face.

“I’m used to this sort of violence,” a gentle feminine voice sighed, “but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to handle this. Even with a Future Diary.”

“As long as I’m around, nothing’s gonna happen to ya,” another feminine, yet somewhat scratchy voice assured the first. “I promise.”

The sickeningly frightened Ishimaru tried to keep his cool. Yet again to his right was Fifth, whose voice caught the unlucky Hall Monitor’s attention. Although their face was still unknown, Ishimaru could still catch hints of an emotionless stare.

“Watch your back out there, Sixth,” Fifth warned as they faded out. “Before you know it, you’ll be no more.”

And just like that, Fifth and their familiar voice faded back to reality as Ishimaru followed suit. Ishimaru found himself back in his school bedroom, waking up in a sweat and racing anxious heart. Once again, he looked at his Future Diary, the same pieces of prophecy inscribed on the digital screen. Sighing, Ishimaru closed the device and laid back on his bed, suddenly not as tired as he was before the Survival Game announcement.

“Oh, how I wish that were some sort of bad dream,” Ishimaru sighed, sick to his stomach at the very thought of participating in a dangerous game of life and death. “Out of all the people chosen, I just had to be one of them…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we've reached the end of the first *official* chapter, I'll tell you the Godly Alignment: Ishimaru Kiyotaka = Athena/Minerva (Taka's certainly not a genius, but he's still very smart regardless and usually looks before he leaps). Mukuro's won't be revealed until she officially reveals her Diary's function. And I'm predicting (lol) that will happen come next chapter, so stay tuned!
> 
> (PS, the Diary names will be mentioned in-story, so don't worry about that)


	3. Night 2: Attack Of The Five ½ Foot Assassin!

"Y-You wanted to see me, Kamukura-sama?"

"Not exactly," the long-haired God corrected. "Second, she's here like you asked."

A girl wearing a smock much like a medical official's stepped forward. Snipped plum hair invaded her rather innocent-looking face, which turned to a joyous surprise at the sight of Junko.

"E-Enoshima-sama!" she gasped, a blush spreading across her face as Junko looked her right in the eyes. "Wh-What do you need me for? I'll do anything f-for you..."

"And that's why you're the perfect person to speak to, Seventh!" Junko laughed, clasping the girl's hands before putting on a sincere façade. "You see... I've got a little problem."

"A little?" Kamukura scoffed, earning an ignored glare from Junko.

"Wh-What is it, Enoshima-sama?" Seventh asked.

"Well..." Junko sniffled, suddenly gloomy as odd mushrooms sprouted from her head while she stroked her pigtails with a manicured hand. "As you and the other Diary Holders know... Kamukura's time as God is already up. Which means... I won't have anyone to have fun with. Oh, I'll be so lonely!"

"O-Oh no!" Seventh cried, "N-No one deserves to be all alone w-without at least someone to t-talk to!"

"And that's where you come in, my darling Seventh~. Don't you think it'd be nice to be together with someone beloved to you for say, _all eternity_?"

"It, it would be wonderful! B-Being with your true love... for all eternity...!"

Junko placed one hand gingerly on Seventh's back, and a gentle thumb pulled down the amorous girl's lower lip. When the pigtailed demigod leaned her face in close, making near lip contact, Seventh felt her own face heat up as her lungs raced with distempered breaths.

"I'll do it!" Seventh breathed, "I'll win this Survival Game and rule with you for all time, Enoshima-sama!"

"You read my mind word for word," Junko purred, pulling away from Seventh's body. "I simply can't live without my only _beloved_ , now can I?"

"And you're my beloved... I'll do this for you, my love! Y-You can count on me!"

As a means to seal the deal, Junko pulled Seventh close and left a secretly loveless kiss upon her soft lips. Seventh consented to the union and pulled Junko close until she hesitantly released her, her weary lungs commanding her to do so.

"One last thing, love," Junko crooned, stroking Seventh's cheek gently and arousing the girl's yearning. "There's one particular Diary Holder you can start with. And I know just where to find them..."

* * *

 In the mortal realm the next evening, Ishimaru walked the halls with a lot on his plate. It was bad enough he'd been cursed with a strange prophecy-conjuring cell phone, but now he was at the risk of something horrible.

"Kill someone?!" Ishimaru breathed to himself, "I just couldn't! It's simply unthinkable!"

He took the cell phone out of his pocket, flipping it open and staring at the recent predictions made about Mondo and Chihiro from earlier. Ishimaru's Future Diary then fizzed out in the screen with its loud static noise, making a new update on the friends of its owner.

"'16:50: Kyoudai has gotten himself in a heated scuffle with Kuwata-kun. It seems as though he decided to take Mondo's coat as a joke.'," Ishimaru read from the phone. "Not on school grounds, he will!" He looked at the current time on his phone, "And I've got only... seven minutes to stop this!"

Ishimaru hurried up the stairs to the second floor and into the men's changing room, gasping as he saw Leon sneak up on the black motorcycle gang coat that belonged only to Mondo.

"Heh, let's see how Oowada likes it when I take his precious jacket," Leon laughed to himself. "It oughta be fun to see him try and find it!"

"Kuwata-kun, stop!" Ishimaru objected, apprehending the Baseball Player by grabbing onto him and locking him in a tight hold.

"Ishimaru?! How the fuck--"

The sound of footsteps from the other side of the nearby door was picked up by Ishimaru's sharp ears. Thinking fast, he pulled Leon under the bench seconds before Mondo came into the changing room.

"Ishima--" Leon began until Ishimaru clasped a hand over his mouth to prevent them from being caught.

"Huh?" Mondo wondered, scratching the black part of his hair. "Weird, coulda sworn I heard somethin'..."

With an indifferent shrug, Mondo happily placed his Crazy Diamonds jacket over his mighty biceps, chugged half a bottle of water, and left the room somewhat sweaty. After Mondo was out of sight, Ishimaru and Leon got out from underneath the bench, brushing off whatever was in the filthy carpet below. While Ishimaru was more than relieved at the new outcome, Leon was infuriated at what the other male just did.

“What the hell, Ishi?!” he snapped, “You ruined my prank!”

“You should be thanking me, Kuwata-kun,” Ishimaru said, about to take out his cell phone again. “If I hadn’t stopped you, you would have had to face the _very_ unpleasant wrath of Mondo Oowada.”

Just then, Ishimaru’s Diary signaled a change in the future using its loud static interference noise. He opened the phone and saw a new message that said “16:50: Kyoudai received his jacket without any reason to lose his temper. Another crisis averted thanks to my deed!”, which made him smile. Unfortunately, that smile would fade when Leon peered at the phone, almost catching the sight of the screen had Ishimaru not have closed it in time.

“What was that noise?” Leon questioned, “I think somethin’ might be wrong with your phone, Ishi.”

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong!” Ishimaru assured him. “That’s just… umm, my customary text message tone!”

“You made a loud static your text tone? Why the hell did you do that?”

“B-Because I enjoy the sound! Oh yes, how I absolutely _love_ the sound of this obnoxious interference!”

“O...kay,” Leon said half-heartedly, seeing how obvious it was Ishimaru didn’t mean a word he said. “Well, I’ve got nothin’ else ta do, so I’m just gonna go.”

Leon began making his leave out of the changing room, which made a wave of relief wash over Ishimaru. Just when he was about to cross the threshold, however, Leon stopped in his tracks after pondering what else went wrong with his scheme.

“By the way, Ishimaru,” Leon said, catching the Hall Monitor’s attention. “How did you know?”

“Kn-Know what, Kuwata-kun?” Ishimaru gulped, feeling like the All-Star was onto him.

“How the hell did you know about my prank? I didn’t tell anyone else about it, so how did you find out? You weren’t _stalkin’_ me, were ya?”

“Stalking is not only illegal, but never would I ever subject myself to following you for such a stupid reason!” Ishimaru retorted. “It was… a lucky guess on how I found out about what you intended to do to Kyoudai.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. Not only that, but word’s been goin’ around that you suddenly know everythin’ about Mondo and what he’s doin’. And not just him; I’ve seen ya do the same ta Chihiro too! What’s up with ya?”

Panicking, Ishimaru attempted to pass Leon and exit the room, only for Leon to stop him in the blink of an eye and block his way. The SHSL Baseball Player continued to try and wheedle info out of his sketchy classmate, only for Ishimaru to bite his lip with nerve.

Just as the SHSL Hall Monitor was ready to blow it, Mukuro Ikusaba of all people walked up near the doorway and placed a shoulder on Ishimaru’s shoulder, causing him to jump with fright. He turned around and saw the Soldier’s emotionless features hadn’t changed an inch, giving him the impression of being touched by a murderous assassin.

“Ikusaba!” Leon piped up, “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I have important business with Ishimaru-kun,” Mukuro lied with hardly any feeling in her voice. “If you’ll excuse us.”

“Uhh, sure! Whatever you want,” Leon said. “I’ll just have to talk to him next time.”

Without any consent from Ishimaru, Mukuro walked off with the confused and paranoid Hall Monitor. She refused to let go of him, and no matter how much Ishimaru tried to pull his wrist from her hand, Mukuro’s grip proved to be stronger and grabbed him tighter. Ishimaru winced from his sore wrist, but was at last granted salvation from the soreness when she let go once they entered her school bedroom.

Ishimaru looked around Mukuro’s room, seeing the overall tidiness of the room. However, it was obvious to see she was a fan of war and battles, as evidenced by the obvious bazooka next to her bed. He winced at the sight of seeing a belt of grenades hanging off of her drawer next to a mysterious mahogany armoire full of who knows what. Turning around, he saw Mukuro closed the door shut and looked at him with a sharp gaze.

“Would you mind telling me what Kuwata-kun wanted to talk about?” Mukuro asked with an eerily calm tone.

“I’m sorry, Ikusaba-kun,” Ishimaru apologized, “but that’s not information I can share with you.”

“Understandable. However, perhaps you wouldn’t mind sharing with me the reason you keep checking your phone every three seconds?”

“My cell phone? Well, I keep receiving these odd… messages as of late!”

“Messages?”

“Yes! They’re… text messages from Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“You’re receiving messages _from_ them? Strange, I don’t recall hearing of a phone that can send events that have yet to take place. Are you certain the ‘messages’ aren’t _about_ them, Ishimaru-kun?”

Ishimaru gulped as Mukuro was not only failing to buy his lies, but she was also getting closer to him in a menacing way. Adding to his pure terror, Mukuro started to unsheathe a knife from a strap attached to her thigh.

“I know your secret, Kiyotaka Ishimaru,” Mukuro informed him coldly. “Or perhaps you’d rather go by another name? Let’s say… ‘Sixth’, was it? One of the new _Diary Holders_?”

“How did you--?!” Ishimaru gasped with shock.

“In hindsight, you made it rather obvious, what with your little Diary updating its predictions yesterday morning. Now, I have a special mission to complete, and you’re going to push me closer to completing it!”

Mukuro attempted to thrust her jagged knife at Ishimaru, but the frightened Prefect’s “fight-or-flight” responses were triggered, allowing him to spontaneously jump away from Mukuro. She immediately charged towards Ishimaru, managing to make a deep gash in his chest before he pulled away in pure agony.

Gripping the fresh gash wound, Ishimaru forced himself to keep evading Mukuro, lest he wind up a lifeless pincushion of blood and guts. He crawled over the Soldier’s bed, not caring at all for the messed up sheets. When he reached the edge, Mukuro attempted to drive her knife into the bulge in his pocket where his Future Diary was, instead missing and thrusting her blade right into his left thigh.

“There’s no point in resisting,” Mukuro told him callously, approaching him nonetheless. “Your death is inevitable, anyways.”

“Not if I can help it!” Ishimaru exclaimed, pointing the bazooka at Mukuro and pulling the trigger, only for nothing to come out no matter how many times he attempted it again.

“I forgot to reload my rocket launcher, so you’re wasting your time. It’s all over for you now…”

Mukuro instinctively tossed her knife, which flawlessly made its blade make perfect contact with the blood vessels within Ishimaru’s right bicep thanks to the Hall Monitor’s interference instead of a more fatal point like its owner had aimed for. Although in severe pain and growing weaker from blood loss, Ishimaru ripped the blade from his arm and pointed it at Mukuro, who was now unarmed for the time being.

“I’d like to see you try and use that,” Mukuro scoffed flatly, taking out her own black flip phone. “Even without my Tactics Diary, I’ll be able to dodge it with ease.”

Not listening to a word, Ishimaru lunged out at Mukuro with the blade. Much to his dismay, Mukuro dodged every reckless swing without a scratch on her body. Still holding onto her phone, she sweep kicked Ishimaru, causing him to drop the knife that returned to its original owner upon being grabbed by her. A blade in one hand and an augur black cell phone in the other, Mukuro looked at the latter before pointing her knife at the doomed Ishimaru.

“Just as my Diary predicted,” Mukuro pointed out. “Face it, you cannot defeat me. And now, it’s time for you to meet your end.”

In the nick of the second, Ishimaru rolled out of the way of Mukuro’s next attempt at his life, making his way towards the door and bolting out of there once he’d flung it open in a heartbeat. The halls were thankfully barren, so no one was in the way when he’d rushed away from the dorms, an armed Mukuro hot on his trail.

 _“Okay, there’s a crazy girl trying to kill me!”_ Ishimaru panted in his thoughts, losing more blood as he ran away. _“Let’s hope I can lose her!”_

Ishimaru burst into the closest classroom he could find, locking the door shut just as Mukuro made contact with it. She kept trying to break the door down with all her might, but she was having no such luck. Smirking from the other side was Ishimaru, who quickly checked his Diary when Mukuro walked away from his classroom sanctuary.

“Perhaps the future changed during Ikusaba-kun’s attack,” Ishimaru said to himself. His face stretched with terror at the recent prediction, which was for once not about his friends at all. “‘17:23: Ishimaru Kiyotaka was stabbed to death by Ikusaba Mukuro. DEAD END’?!” he gasped.

Looking around the room with a heart and mind full of fear, Ishimaru spotted the window and bolted over to it through the abandoned desks. Resheathing his Future Diary, Ishimaru tampered with the window locks until both had come undone and left the window free to move. But from the second he opened his square-shaped gateway to freedom from the first floor, a loud explosion went off from behind, causing him to fall down as pieces of burning glass and wood scattered through the dark classroom. From beneath the smoke was Mukuro Ikusaba, who was wearing a grenade belt around her torso and a knife in one of her hands.

“I’ve got you now, Sixth,” she hissed with hard-bitten venom, approaching her target through the smoke.

Without thinking twice about it, Ishimaru leaped through the window and onto the concrete, running away from Hope’s Peak Academy along with the girl who was out to kill him for the Survival Game. He heard the future change on his Diary about his escaped Dead End, but he ignored it for now and kept sprinting. Due to his heart rate increasing greatly while running away from Hope’s Peak and into the city, Ishimaru started losing more and more blood by the minute, staining his uniform and bringing about a weary body.

 _“Just a little further…!”_ he thought, vision starting to get blurry. _“If I keep going, I can get away from her completely…!”_

The wounded and bleeding Hall Monitor would only get as far as the park five blocks away from the school before his body refused to go anymore. Looking behind him wearily, he couldn’t see any sign of Mukuro and collapsed to the ground. Ishimaru dragged himself along the concrete sidewalk, a trail of blood following right behind with every pull. Eventually, he could go no further, his body becoming too heavy with fatigue and blood loss as Ishimaru felt himself starting to black out.

“I’ve gotta keep going…” he panted weakly, eyelids getting harder to keep open until they remained shut. “I can’t… I’m just not ready to…”

At that very moment, more blood escaped Ishimaru after he could feel nothing but numbness when he finally slipped into total darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Greek Myth alignment for this chapter: Ikusaba Mukuro = Ares/Mars (she's the SHSL Soldier and an excellent fighter, not to mention an expert regarding war). And, though the identity of Seventh should now be known by all of you reading this story, I'm not gonna reveal their alignment until they actually debut!
> 
> Side note: Much like how Yuno's the resident "yandere" of Mirai Nikki, this would make Mukuro the story's resident "kuudere" (cold and distant before eventually showing their sweeter side). Just something I thought I'd add! (I guess that makes Ishimaru this story's "Yukiteru", lol)


	4. Night 2 Part 2: Is There A Diary Holder In The House?

Sound that was once muffled and incoherent started to grow clearer and clearer as Ishimaru’s eyes creaked open slowly. The sounds he was having trouble hearing were revealed to be the beeps of medical machines and several doctors down the pristine white halls outside rushing in and out of rooms.

Ishimaru tried pushing himself up in the clean hospital bed he was. But rather than succeeding and exiting the bed to see what was going on, the lingering pain in his treated and bandaged stab wounds rang out through his body, forcing him down again.

“How did I get to the hospital?” Ishimaru wondered. “I could have sworn I fell unconscious near the park earlier.”

“O-Oh, wonderful!” a light female voice said, “Y-You’re awake, sir.”

Coming into the room was the innocent face of a girl who looked to be around seventeen years old. She was clearly a nurse at this hospital, but Ishimaru assumed her to be a volunteer or part-timer due to her being close to his age. Choppy long plum hair swayed back and forth on her smock-bearing body as she sat down at the stool close to Ishimaru’s bedside.

“Good evening, Miss,” Ishimaru greeted with a smile. “May I ask your name and how I got here?”

“I’m M-Mikan Tsumiki,” she introduced shyly, “I used to go to Hope’s Peak Academy as the SHSL Nurse. A-Also, I b-brought you here when I f-found you unconscious in the park. Thankfully, the d-doctors had you treated right away when I got here!”

“Well, that was quite convenient and nice of you, Tsumiki-kun! I’m Kiyotaka Ishimaru, I currently attend Hope’s Peak Academy as the SHSL Hall Monitor and head of the Disciplinary Committee!”

Mikan nodded and smiled softly, telling Ishimaru it was nice to meet him. Her attention diverted to the hospital nightstand, where Ishimaru’s white Future Diary with red striped lied out in the open. Almost immediately, Mikan tried reaching for it, only for Ishimaru to snatch it back right away.

“That’s a n-nice phone you have there, Ishimaru-kun,” Mikan complimented.

“This old thing? It’s really nothing,” Ishimaru insisted. “It works just fine and allows me to reach important contacts, so I suppose it’s okay. However, I must ask you not to touch it, okay? It isn’t right to touch things that aren’t yours.”

“O-Oh, s-sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“So, how long do I have to stay here? Surely it doesn’t take too long for wounds to seal up.”

“Well, the only wound that wasn’t mortally deep was thankfully your chest gash, so that should be healed in no time,” Mikan told him, looking at the clipboard. “But, your arm and thigh wounds are pretty deep, so we’re going to have to keep you for at least the weekend.”

Ishimaru sighed in disappointment. Not only was he in a fragile condition with his injuries, but now there was a chance he’d have to miss classes. And worse, he knew that somewhere out there was one of his classmates trying to take his life to become immortal.

He looked at the current clothes on his body: A pair of mint green long hospital pajamas, blood and tear-free unlike the school uniform he was once wearing. Said articles of clothing were sitting on another otherwise empty chair, folded and freshly dried from a wash.

“If you need anything, j-just call me, okay?” Mikan said innocently, stepping out of the room. “Just know you c-can always count on me no matter what!”

“I sure can!” Ishimaru chuckled, “Such a kindly nurse such as yourself is always reliable!”

Mikan blinked in surprise once, then brought another smile to her face as she finally left the room and closed the patient’s door. She spotted the women’s public restroom situated much further down the hall from Ishimaru’s room and went right inside. Looking back and forth through the stalls, she saw that no one was there but her and took out her wisteria colored cellphone with spots of rose quartz pink on them. Mikan read the recent prediction on her phone screen and started laughing menacingly until her laughs became outright cackles of evil madness.

"Pretty soon, the Sixth will be history!” Mikan laughed as she suddenly became hot and sweaty, “Then… I’ll be one step closer to being one with my beloved… for all eternity…!”

Shutting her phone and putting it away in a secure apron pocket, Mikan went into one of the stalls and flushed the toilet as a means of pretending to use the bathroom. She left, grin and suspicion disappearing when a few doctors passed and greeted her.

* * *

 Elsewhere in downtown Osaka, Mukuro was still running around past tall alien buildings hastily. Her knife was sheathed back into her thigh pouch to prevent getting in trouble, but she looked at her phone, pressing the up and down arrow buttons to search previous predictions. Much to her dismay, she was having no such luck at a lead.

“Argh, of course,” she huffed. “My ‘Tactics’ Diary only tells me about _battle_ tactics…” Mukuro spotted an unknown old man and approached him. “Excuse me, sir! I’m looking for my… associate. Have you seen him?”

“Can you tell me what he looks like, young lady?” the old man asked.

“He has short, somewhat spiky black hair, thick black eyebrows, red dartboard eyes, and he was wearing a white school uniform.”

“Hmm… no, I’m terribly sorry. I’ve never seen anyone that looks like that. You’ll have to try someone else.”

“Thanks anyways, sir. I appreciate the help.”

Mukuro dashed off away from the old man, deciding to find a lead elsewhere. In another section of downtown Osaka, she saw a woman appearing to be around college aged and went up to her asking about Ishimaru's whereabouts.

"Oh! Yes, I saw someone like that," the woman answered.

"You did? Where?!" Mukuro asked.

"If I recall, some girl found him bleeding to death in the park and brought him straight to the hospital. I wonder how the poor thing got himself hurt like that in the first place?"

"Yes, I wonder that too. Which way is the hospital?"

"The address is 5-3-20 Nakanoshima. It's several blocks down, so you'll have to take a bus if you want to get there faster."

"Will do, ma'am. Thank you very much for your help.

Now provided with plenty of information, Mukuro ran to the nearest bus station and began her wait for the next transport to the hospital. She knew when it came, she'd be a step closer to completing her dangerous mission.

* * *

 Back at the hospital, Ishimaru heard the sound of his phone making another prediction. He opened it up and saw yet another future about Mondo and Chihiro. His recent prophecy said "20:25: Kyoudai and Fujisaki-kun aren't just worried sick about where I am, they're also wondering what happened to the blown-up classroom.". Ishimaru closed his phone, passing the fifteen minutes-ahead event off as inconsequential.

"I guess without my only friends around, my Friendship Diary isn't of much use," he sighed, laying back in the bed.

Mikan came back into Ishimaru's hospital room with some medical tools. She sat down by his bedside and started unwrapping the gauze around his chest gash.

"I'm just d-doing a little check up, no need to be scared," Mikan said with feigned sincerity.

The slowly sealing wound was now exposed to the chilled air of the room's atmosphere. Mikan skimmed over her metal tools until she selected a little scalpel. Ishimaru looked straight at the medical blade with anxiety, only to get more false reassurance from Mikan.

Ishimaru relaxed his body a bit, resisting the urge to wince when the SHSL Nurse prodded at the chest gash with the sharp tool. The more she "examined" the wound, the harder it got for Ishimaru to resist the increasing pain.

"Tsumiki-kun," Ishimaru hissed with pain, "are you certain you should be poking at my injury without at least a sedative?"

"Ishimaru-kun, please," Mikan said gently. "I'm an expert on medical work, so I know what I'm doing." Crocodile tears started welling up in Mikan's eyes until they fell with her sniffles and sobs. "D-Don't... don't you t-trust me? P-Please forgive me if I seem like a bad helper... I'll do better, I p-promise!"

"No no no no, you're doing _fine_ , Tsumiki-kun!" Ishimaru assured the crying teenaged Nurse. "In fact, you've been doing a stellar job at being my nurse tonight!"

"D-Do you really m-mean that, Ishimaru-kun?"

"Of course I do! You've been more than trustworthy all night!"

Mikan wiped away her tears upon hearing that, smiling at the fact that she now had Ishimaru's trust. After all, it now meant he was even less suspecting of her at this point.

"Thank you, Ishimaru-kun," Mikan sniffled, resuming her painful false check-up with the scalpel.

Mikan kept toying with Ishimaru's vulnerable wound until she at last dug the sharper part into one of the stitches. She slowly dragged it across, freeing the half-clotted blood from within until Ishimaru let out a loud shout of pain.

"I think this check-up's gone far enough," Ishimaru panted, re-wrapping the gauze around the bloody gash to prevent any further blood loss.

Nodding, Mikan gathered her tools and left the hospital room. Violet eyes shifting back to the closed door skeptically, Mikan pondered about how to execute both her plan, and the Sixth.

 _"Okay, so taking him out while he's awake is out of the question,"_ Mikan thought, _"So, I'll just have to strike when he's not! And when I do, Sixth will definitely sleep... forever...!"_

* * *

 Later that night at about 10:20 pm, Ishimaru made sure his gauze was wrapped tightly around his wounds. When that inspection passed, he allowed a yawn to pass his lips, leaning back into the pillow wearily. His exhaustion overtook him and made him drift off into a soothing sleep.

Right outside of Ishinaru's hospital room was of course Mikan, whose Future Diary made the loud interference tone as her future changed again. This time, she got the prediction "22:22: Sixth receives another laceration to the tricep, rendering him with a few damaged arm muscles." In addition to that, she received the delightful of "22:53: Sixth dies after I inject him with a deadly chemical. Excessive bleeding from his jugular vein aided in the process.".

"Health Diary, you never cease to give me good news," Mikan giggled. "And now, it's time for a certain Hall Monitor to meet his maker!"

Taking a box of tools off of the cart and concealing her Future Diary. She took out the sharpest pair of scissors from the box and approached the sleeping Ishimaru in his room after shutting the door. Mikan quietly crept closer and closer to Ishimaru, dull eyes locked dead on the target as the scissors were raised high above her head. However, Mikan failed to notice the fresh wax on the floor that was applied when she wasn't in the room earlier, and clumsily lost her footing with a yelp. She fell to the floor and knocked a bunch of stuff down with her, the loud crash awakening Ishimaru.

"What the--?!" Ishimaru sputtered as his eyes flung open. "Tsumiki-kun, what's wrong?"

 _"My cover's blown! I'd better act now!"_ Mikan thought, immediately charging at Ishimaru's left arm, slicing some body tissue beneath the flesh with the scissors.

"Augh!" Ishimaru wailed, gripping his other injured arm and leaping out of bed. "Why are you attacking me?! I thought nurses were supposed to take care of patients!"

"Let's just say I'll make an exception for you," Mikan laughed. "Once I get rid of you, I'll be a step closer to being with my true love forever!"

Ishimaru's scarlet eyes widened with terror, despite not quite knowing what Mikan meant exactly. But whatever it did mean, she was out to take his life, marking yet another girl who wanted to do so.

At the same, Mukuro had just gotten into the hospital. The man at the front desk was able to buy the lie that she was looking for a close friend, so she made her way up to the third floor like he said.

As she trekked up the flight of stairs, the Tactics Diary in her hand made a loud interference noise and updated its future. Mukuro stopped around the second floor, reading the prediction "22:32: Seventh chases Sixth down the hallway past the second floor's nursery. Use a hidden take-down to subdue the closest opponent.".

"So, there's another Diary Holder here?" Mukuro wondered, "I guess I'll just have to kill two birds with one stone. ...Or in my case, one knife."

A few more steps later, Mukuro crossed the doorway to Floor 2 with a good 6 minutes to go until the prediction comes true. She scurried down the pristine marble floors until she saw the struggle far up ahead.

Currently, Mikan was savagely trying to strike the injured Ishimaru once again, while the Sixth Diary Holder was trying to protect himself and his literal lifeline of a cell phone. Mukuro saw that while Ishimaru was pretty evasive for an injured person (if the chase they had earlier meant anything), he had absolutely no experience to fight back properly, especially in the brittle state he was in.

"If he keeps this up with that many wounds, he'll be dead before Seventh even has time to touch him," Mukuro sighed, taking refuge in the nearby darkened nursery.

When Ishimaru finally escaped Mikan's hold, Mukuro saw him making his way towards the nursery she was hiding in. Now, she had the perfect chance to finish him off with a sneak attack and go after Mikan immediately after. But after seeing how poorly he'd been attempting to combat the SHSL Nurse, Mukuro felt too much pity for the guy to try and do so at the moment. So instead, she flung the door open when Ishimaru approached and pulled him right into the dark room.

"What on Earth?" Ishimaru wondered until he saw Mukuro right in front of him using the lights from the corridors.

Fear washed over him as the command to scream was quickly acknowledged. But from the second his voice dared to get louder, Mukuro shoved a palm to his mouth and shushed him. From beneath her rather soft palm, Ishimaru let out muffled screams and started to struggle.

"Be quiet, Sixth!" Mukuro hissed through a whispered volume. "We're in a nursery. One wrong sound and tiny living alarms will go right off."

He was still more than terrified, but Ishimaru stopped trying to scream and struggle in benefit to the many newborn babies around them. When Mukuro asked if he'd calm down, Ishimaru paused before nodding, allowing Mukuro to take her hand off of him.

 _"I've got to get out of here! Any longer and Ikusaba-kun will try to kill me again!"_ Ishimaru thought, pushing himself towards the door until Mukuro denied him freedom.

"You're not going anywhere," Mukuro said in a quiet yet blunt tone.

"Yes, I am!" Ishimaru declared in a whisper. "I know you dragged me in here to finish the job!"

"Or, I could have dragged you in here so Seventh doesn't destroy you in a one-way fight. Look, I have no intention of killing you at the moment."

"Oh sure, is that what you want me to think? Nice try, Ikusaba-kun! I'm thankfully not a genius, but I'm certainly no idiot, either! Now if you'll excuse me--"

Ishimaru's attempt to reach for the door was foiled when Mikan ran right up to the door, looking left and right for her target. Before she could look inside the nursery, Mukuro pulled him downwards so he wasn't visible through the glass. Mikan looked through the dark room, but walked off in another direction when she failed to spot Ishimaru.

“Now listen,” Mukuro spoke in a low tone, grabbing Ishimaru firmly by the collar to get her point across, “you have two options. Option one: You leave this nursery, get spotted by Seventh, and meet a pathetically early Dead End.”

“And what’s the second option?” Ishimaru asked, not enjoying the sound of an early Survival Game elimination at all.

“Option two is this: You suck it up for at least _two seconds_ , and accept my assistance in taking down Seventh. Or failing that, at least making it so she can’t attack you. Because let’s face it; you have no chance at winning with your current body condition and battle skills.”

“But I don’t have _any_ battle skills! I’m not a mercenary like you are!”

“Exactly. So, what’s it going to be? Instant death, or a prolonged one?”

“...Prolonged.”

“Excellent choice, Sixth. Now, come with me if you want to live longer.”

Mukuro peeked through the glass outside, seeing no sign or bandage of Mikan. Opening the door slowly, she guided Ishimaru out behind her without letting go of his wrist. The two crept low along the hospital rooms and walls, keeping an eye out for Mikan. Just then, they heard a voice coming from the stairwell leading back to the third floor.

“You can run, but you can’t hide, Sixth!” Mikan taunted. “My Health Diary will tell me any and all injuries you sustain, and it’s only a matter of time before a little boo-boo leads me right to you!”

Mikan ran up the stairs to the third floor, her Health Diary still open and predictions in her clear view. Without making a noticeable sound, Ishimaru and Mukuro followed right behind her, arriving back on Floor 3 without being spotted. On the hard marble floor below them, Mikan could hear footsteps that weren’t hers, turning around to identify her “guests”. But when her eyes were saw the hall floor behind her, no one was there, so she continued walking with her Future Diary in hand.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, Siiixth…” Mikan breathed, eyes now dull like that of a creepy doll’s. “You know I’m gonna find you, so just give up already…!”

Unbeknownst to the SHSL Nurse out to kill, Ishimaru and Mukuro had hidden themselves in an empty recovery room at the last minute. When Mikan walked out of their view of sight, Ishimaru was more than relieved at being temporarily safe. Mukuro, on the other hand, had just spawned an idea for victory.

“Sixth, do you remember what Seventh said about her Diary?” Mukuro asked.

“I believe she said something about it tracking injuries,” Ishimaru responded.

“Exactly. I have an idea to lure her to us, and take her down when she’s close enough. Follow my lead.”

“Wait, what’s the plan--” Ishimaru was beginning to ask until Mukuro thrust her rugged knife deep into her own bare thigh, grunting and hissing back the pain of her fresh stab wound. “Wh-Why did you just do that?!” Ishimaru screamed, taken by surprise by the sudden action and what would occur next.

“You’ve been doing an exemplary job at being the Game’s voodoo doll tonight,” Mukuro said through gritted teeth, “so I thought I’d give you a break and take the blow myself. And now, Seventh should be here any second.”

Down the hallway, Mikan’s phone made its usual interference noise, the screen giving off a static for a second before new entries appeared. One particular prediction made her eyes widen and a menacing grin stretch across her lips.

“‘22:48: Fifth stabbed herself with her own knife in Room 301, severing her femoral vein and part of her right gracilis muscle.’,” Mikan read to herself. “So, Enoshima-sama’s sister is here too? Wonderful! Two for the price of one!”

Mikan started dashing in the reverse hallway direction, nearly tripping again before she caught herself in time. She flung the door open and saw a terrified Ishimaru, laughing madly at the sight of her target and raising a deadly syringe above him. Her heart raced with excitement when she thought of her future two victims bringing her closer to the love of her life.

“NIGHTY-NIGHT, SIXTH!” Mikan yelled, yanking the needle in her hand down swiftly towards Ishimaru’s neck.

Right on cue, Mukuro sprang into action and grabbed Mikan by the wrist. The Nurse tried moving her wrist from the Soldier’s grasp, but had no such luck due to Mukuro’s impressive strength. Instead, Mukuro tossed her to the floor, Mikan avoiding the needle herself and protecting her phone at the same time. However, Mikan was in no way ready to give up, not when she had such a strong goal in mind.

“So… you’re the Fifth?” Mikan breathed, somewhat winded from the fall. “Funny, I always thought you’d be a lot uglier and weaker from what Enoshima-sama has told me.”

“Yes, I am the Fifth,” Mukuro confirmed, ignoring anything else Mikan had just said. “And you’re obviously Seventh, correct?”

“That’s me! Mikan Tsumiki, the SHSL Nurse and Seventh Diary Holder in this Survival Game! But enough about me, let’s kill you so I can take down the rest!”

Mikan immediately charged at Mukuro with the syringe of toxic liquid, which the Soldier fearlessly dodged on instinct. Mukuro’s Tactics Diary made another sound, signifying the future had changed. Having no time to look at it, she tossed the black phone to Ishimaru, who fumbled it before firmly grasping the electronic device.

“Read the future, Sixth!” Mukuro instructed, dodging all of the crazed Mikan’s attacks.

“O-Okay!” Ishimaru stuttered, flipping the phone open and reading the magic messages. “Tsumiki-kun’s going for a surprise attack from the back in five seconds! Grab her by the arms and toss her!”

The moment Mikan’s needle-bearing arm was raised, Mukuro grabbed both of her opponent by the upper limbs and tossed her directly into the bathroom door with no hassle. The impact of the throw left a large crack in the wooden frame, and caused Mikan to groan in pain as she struggled to move.

Mukuro took advantage of the Nurse’s predicament and went for the Health Diary in her hand with every intention to destroy it. But before she could, Mikan found enough strength to snatch the phone away from Mukuro’s reach and sock her in the face with her other hand so she would be knocked even further away. Caressing her bleeding mouth with one of her hands, Mukuro grabbed Ishimaru (who still had the Tactics and Friendship Diaries with him) with her free hand and bolted out of the room in a flash. When they left, Mikan gave chase to the both of them, forcing herself to go faster in a speedy limp and safeguarding her Diary in her palm.

“We have to lose her!” Ishimaru declared, “Let’s try this room on the right!”

The exact room Ishimaru and Mukuro barged into was a surgery room. However, the two couldn’t have walked in during a more awkward time, as a basic abdominopelvic surgery was in-progress. All of the surgeons who weren’t doing the procedure looked at two teenagers; one wearing a green hospital pajama shirt and pants with darkening wounds on his body, and the other completely fine save for a bleeding mouth and self-inflicted thigh wound.

“...Is this a bad time?” Ishimaru laughed sheepishly.

“I think you know the answer to that one,” one of the doctors said with half-lidded eyes.

Just then, Mikan burst through the door with the syringe of an unknown euthanasia. Failing to notice her associates at first, she laughed madly and grabbed Ishimaru by the neck, reveling at his squirms that begged for mercy and release.

“This is for you, my sweet Enoshima-sama!” Mikan shouted to the heavens, about to drive the needle deep into Ishimaru’s neck.

“Nurse Tsumiki?” she heard one doctor wonder, making her gasp and look to her left. “What are you doing to that patient?!”

“D-Doctor Kayano!” Mikan gasped, looking at the syringe and damaged Ishimaru before dropping them both and hiding her hands behind her back. “Th-This isn’t what it looks like! I swear!” she lied, a nervous sweat running down her face.

“Oh, so I didn’t just see you assault a patient right in front of me?!” Dr. Kayano snapped, outrage clear in their eyes. “Because that’s sure what it looked like! Did you injure that other girl too, Mikan?”

“N-No, I didn’t! I p-promise I’m innocent! Oh, p-please don’t think I’m a b-bad person! Waaah!” Mikan wailed, sudden crocodile tears running down her face as she tried wiping them.

Before anyone else had time to react, Mukuro grabbed a breathing mask connected to a tank of laughing gas, snuck up on Mikan, and placed the mask directly to her nose and mouth. Mikan struggled with an outraged look in her eyes, but started to calm down gradually once Mukuro turned the gas on. Soon enough, Mikan’s eyes fell shut as her unconscious body made her hand go slightly limp while Mukuro lowered the Seventh Diary Holder to the ground.

“Nighty-night, Seventh,” Mukuro retorted coldly, switching off the gas and removing the mask from Mikan’s sleeping face.

“Are you and your friend alright, Miss?” Dr. Kayano asked, scooping the unconscious Mikan up and holding her like a human crutch.

“We’ll live,” Mukuro responded. “But you may want to do something about Tsumiki-san.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll see to it she gets more than the boot for this. Though it’s strange; she was always the most gentle with patients no matter what. I wonder what could have made her snap like that?”

“Much obliged, Doctor. My… ‘friend’ and I will be on our way now. Good night.”

Mukuro picked Ishimaru up from the ground and got him back on his feet. He followed her out of the room, trying to keep up despite his depleting energy. Taking a few breaths in and out, he went back into the room he’d woken up in when he first go to the hospital, Mukuro coming inside and finding a roll of gauze and disinfectant. Sitting down in an empty chair, she placed the slightly stingy disinfectant over her stab wound, rubbing it in until the wound was clean. When it was sanitized, Mukuro wrapped some gauze around her stab wound and sealed it tight to commence the recovery.

“Ikusaba-kun?” Ishimaru spoke, laying back down in his bed and taking some bandage gauze from the Soldier.

“Yes?” Mukuro replied.

“I just wanted to thank you for your valiant efforts tonight. I appreciate you saving my life, even if I can’t figure out why you did to begin with.”

“It’s like I said, I took pity on you for your poor combat skills, and nothing more. If you were an adequate fighter, I wouldn’t have considered helping you out.”

“Fair enough, I suppose…” Ishimaru sighed, sealing the gauze around his other wounded arm. “Now that Tsumiki-kun-- I mean, Seventh, has been subdued, I guess it’s safe to leave--”

More sharp pains surged through the muscular body of Ishimaru, making him writhe and groan with agony. His back fell to the bed, catching his fall with the softness and comfort of the mattress. Staring up at the ceiling, Ishimaru let a sigh pass his lips in defeat.

“You’re in no condition to leave,” Mukuro pointed out. “Seventh should no longer be an issue, so take the time to recover and get back in the Survival Game as soon as you can.” She got up and started walking towards the door until she stopped and turned to Ishimaru with a chilly look in her icy blue eyes. “And like I said, Sixth, don’t let your guard down even for a second. Because wherever you turn, someone will make an attempt on your life to become God.”

Mukuro left with that morbid note, unnerving Ishimaru greatly. The only feeling that surpassed his uncomfortable feeling was the excess amounts of wound irritation and exhaustion that currently possessed him. Rather than stress himself out more than he had tonight, Ishimaru crawled into the hospital bed and pulled the sheets over his bandaged body. A yank of the lamp chain sent him into total darkness, silence killed by his Friendship Diary signalling an updated future. One look at one of the newer predictions brought a smile to his weary face before closing his phone and placing it safely in the drawer.

 _“It looks like I’ll be getting a ‘surprise’ visit from Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun soon,”_ Ishimaru thought with a smile, closing his eyes and preparing for sleep. _“It’s good to know I have friends that are looking out for me…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Olympian Alignment: Tsumiki Mikan = Apollo (one of Apollo's fuck-ton of specialties is medicine, which Mikan also specializes in due to being the SHSL Nurse).
> 
> Oh, and a message to the darling reviewer known as "Zeke": I don't have a TON of free time due to school XD. What I actually do is I start writing the chapters on my iPhone and work a little during school when I *do* have free periods/time. So when I come home, I only have to type the other half of it! That makes sense, doesn't it?


	5. Day 5 & 6: A Very Unlikely Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't any action in this chapter, but the plot's starting to move along a little more. And now, for comment responses:
> 
> QwertysHuman: Yes, Ishimaru's Diary only makes predictions for people he's friends with. So if he were to consider Mukuro a friend (she doesn't even have to reciprocate; he just has to trust her enough to such a degree), then the Friendship Diary would make predictions involving her whereabouts too.
> 
> Zeke: Well, what would /you/ think if someone's phone broke and they suddenly faded from existence in a sudden vortex XD? And yeah, poor Ishi keep getting attacked by crazy girls as of late. PS, you're very much welcome for the shout-out!

An entire weekend had passed, and Ishimaru’s hospital room was no longer just him and a bunch of medical supplies. Now, it contained a few treasured items that were gifts from his friends, and even his parents. Ishimaru was healed enough to at least sit up, so he had no trouble finishing up the homework Mondo and Chihiro brought him Saturday afternoon.

Just as he answered the final question for his last sheet of homework, Ishimaru’s Diary had another future change as a whole new set of predictions came in. Opening it, he both saw the time was 3:30 in the afternoon (so he’d missed classes for the day, much to his disappointment), and that Mondo and Chihiro were coming to pick him up from the hospital.

“They should be here in about half an hour,” Ishimaru remarked, closing his phone and starting up a re-study session with his notes. “I’ll just pass the time with my work.”

When the long thirty minutes finally passed, the doctor who was treating Ishimaru came in and led Mondo and Chihiro to their friend. In Chihiro's hands was a fresh uniform identical to the first, only no blood stains and tears were on this set. The doctor left the room and let Ishimaru's friends see the patient.

"Damn, Taka!" Mondo exclaimed, "We heard how ya wound up here! To think ya survived that many attacks!"

"Who attacked you in the first place?" Chihiro wondered, "I can't imagine why someone would want to hurt you in the first place!"

"Let's... just say you don't know them, and they're out of my hair now," Ishimaru told them, taking the uniform from Chihiro.

"Yeah, lucky fer them," Mondo huffed, pounding his knuckle into his palm. "'Cause if I ever find the fucker who tried killin' one 'a my best friends, they're dead!"

 _"I think if you merely saw them, you'd eat those words for dinner,"_ Ishimaru thought, removing his hospital pants and unbuttoning the top over his muscular and broad body.

Ishimaru put the cleaner uniform on his bandage-covered body, his black socks and knee-high boots in tow. Standing up on the floor felt somewhat weird with the knowledge of having to take it easy with his wounds and the blood rushing to his weary legs. Regardless of injury or malady, Ishimaru stood proud and tall, stashing his study materials into his backpack. With the bag on his back, he took the dirty uniform into his arms, stashing his Future Diary in the left pants pocket of the one he was wearing, and leaving the room. Mondo and Chihiro followed him whilst carrying the few "Get Well" gifts he'd received over the weekend.

After finishing the checking out process at the lobby's front desk, the three friends made their way to Mondo's Kawasaki in the hospital parking lot. As per usual, Mondo sat in the front to drive, while Ishimaru sat in between him and Chihiro.

"Kyoudai, I hope you brought some headgear for this ride!" Ishimaru badgered.

"I did, but they're for you and Chihiro," Mondo answered, pointing to the motorcycle helmets in question. "I'm the SHSL Gang Leader, do you really think I'm gonna waste my time with that shit?"

"Okay, but when you receive head trauma from being too reckless, don't say I didn't warn you!"

Before he so much as touched the second helmet Chihiro was holding, Ishimaru realized what he just said and opened his Friendship Diary after taking it out from his pocket. He sighed in relief after failing to find a prediction about Mondo getting in an accident, and put the phone back in his pocket.

"Ready now?" Mondo asked.

"Yes! Let's get going," Ishimaru confirmed, shoving the helmet onto his head until only his chin was bare.

"Why did you suddenly check your phone like that?" Chihiro asked, holding onto Ishimaru's waist tightly when takeoff began. "Is something wrong, Ishimaru-kun?"

"No, nothing is wrong, Chihiro-kun!" Ishimaru lied. "What made you ask such a question?"

"Well, you usually only open your phone during an emergency. But nowadays, you're checking it every second like your life depends on it or something."

 _"Oh, you have no idea, my friend..."_ Ishimaru sighed within his thoughts. "Everything's okay, Chihiro-kun. I promise."

"If you say so..."

The ride back to Hope's Peak Academy only took a good fifteen minutes, so the three friends were back in no time. Chihiro and Ishimaru removed their helmets and went inside with Mondo, going their separate ways for the time being.

Ishimaru, still feeling overly stressed about Friday night's incident (exacerbated by the sight of the blown-up classroom that was now off limits), decided to take it a little easy. He put his belongings in his room and headed towards the second floor's bathhouse.

Passing a few doors, he was within reach of his destination until he heard a loud grunt from a nearby room in unison with a slight _SHK_ sound. Curious, Ishimaru slowly opened the door containing the noise, but nearly blew his cover when he heard a machine gun fire of repeatedly. Behind the door was of course Mukuro, who appeared to be training intensely using a padded dummy. Looking at the mutilated training toy and the girl destroying it, Ishimaru gulped down anxious bile when he pictured himself sharing the same fate as the training dummy somewhere in the Survival Game. When Mukuro thrust her hand right through the "chest" with a shout, Ishimaru quickly shut the door the moment the Soldier ripped stuffing out of where a heart would be in a real human being.

"I'd better steer clear of Ikusaba-kun!" Ishimaru breathed to himself, speed-walking into the bathhouse in a panic. "She's the 'Fifth' if I recall, so her pity mercy last week will definitely not happen again!"

Once inside the locker room, Ishimaru removed his uniform, underwear, and footwear, quickly wrapped one of the fresh white towels around his exposed pelvis. He placed his clothes and Friendship Diary in a locker and sealed it with a protective lock for safe keeping. He tugged on the locker door to make sure the items inside were sealed properly and went into the boys’ section of the bathhouse.

Steam permeated throughout the entire room, giving life to a tepid environment where any and all tense nerves would sleep in solid comfort. Ishimaru removed his towel and stepped into the pool of warm bathwater, lowering his body until all but the upper half of the rippling pectorals on his torso were basking in soothing liquid. Ishimaru let his lungs exhaled, suddenly serene from the calming temperatures as all previous worries abandoned his body.

“At least no one can get my Diary,” he noted. “After what I’ve been through, a nice long bath is just what the doctor ordered. And since I’m all caught up on my studies, I can finally give myself a break until my second note review.”

Ishimaru scooped a bit of soapy water into his palm and started rubbing the sudsy mixture over his healing bicep. The wound was closed enough to prevent any residue from intruding, so the soap caused no stinging whatsoever and brought him hygienic relief. He repeated it for the other arm, and soon, his entire body of protruding muscles and bulk. Once every inch of his body was rid of the stench he’d built up from the weekend in the hospital, Ishimaru felt relaxed enough to go.

"That has to be the best bath I've had in a long time!" Ishimaru exhaled, stepping out of the bathhouse and permitting steam to invade the locker rooms.

Ishimaru remembered where his belongings were and went to the rightful locker. He tampered with the lock a little until the door opened up. Taking the damp towel off of his lower region, Ishimaru put on his underwear and pants, re-applied some fresh sarashi to his abdomen, and put the gakuran over it before buttoning the top uniform half. Putting his Friendship Diary in his pocket for safekeeping, Ishimaru left the bathhouse in favor of his room to continue his scholarly duties.

On the way back to the first floor, a startled Ishimaru yelped at the sight of Mukuro, who immediately turned in his direction after hearing the sound. He tried going down the stairs and avoiding her at the bottom, but Mukuro caught up to him far too quickly for a successful escape.

"Sixth, I've been looking for you," Mukuro said. "Now that I've finally found you, I--"

"I'm very sorry, Ikusaba-kun!" Ishimaru shrieked, scurrying past the ice block of a Soldier.

"Don't leave, I just want to talk for a moment."

For once, Ishimaru refused to listen, still justifyingly distrustful of the emotionally-void girl who tried to murder him. Each time she stepped closer, Ishimaru took another few backwards towards the Dormitory Wing. No matter what Mukuro tried to tell him, he ignored her out of fear and reached for his doorknob when his room door was within grabbing distance. Right away, he unlocked the door and went right in, shutting the door in Mukuro's face.

"Well, so much for a civil conversation," Mukuro remarked, walking away from Ishimaru's room.

Ishimaru opened the door slightly and sighed in relief at Mukuro walking away. "Thank goodness, she's gone," he breathed, going back into his room and closing the door shut. "I live to see another day!"

* * *

 In class the following morning, Ishimaru and the rest of his classmates were waiting for a science test to be handed out for taking. Unlike the students who were doing some last minute cramming, Ishimaru was among those prepared to take the upcoming exam. Before the teacher started handing out the papers, Ishimaru checked his noise-making phone yet again to see four predictions about the test. Two of them read “08:10: Kyoudai marks down many incorrect answers on his exam. It’s quite clear he didn’t bother studying beforehand.” and “08:18: Chihiro-kun is doing well on his test. I commend him for preparing properly!”. The bottommost two predictions below said “08:52: Chihiro-kun scored an impressive 94%; five points below my score. I’m so proud of him for doing so well and working hard towards the result!” right above the message “08:53: Kyoudai received a not-so wonderful score of 63%. He doesn’t seem to be all surprised and instead gives me a friendly bap on the shoulder before leaving with Chihiro-kun.”.

“Phones away, I’m handing out your tests now,” the teacher announced, prompting Ishimaru to conceal his mystic cell phone right before he received his test and began writing down his answers.

After a good 20 minutes of test-taking, three of those minutes spent by Ishimaru looking over his answers, the Hall Monitor turned his test in, making himself among the first couple people to finish. While he was handing the sheet of paper to the teacher at the desk, Mukuro placed her completed test down after his. She opened her mouth to whisper something to Ishimaru, but he was still terrified of her and hurried to his seat, changing her mind and allowing her to return to hers.

Minutes before the end of class, the teacher handed back the corrected tests to the respective student. As predicted, Ishimaru smiled at his efforts earning him a 99%. He turned to see Mondo sighing in defeat and crumpling the paper up, while Mukuro’s paper had a clear “100% Excellent Job!” written at the top in red pen. Despite this, she stashed the paper into a folder and placed the folder in her bag with indifference. When the bell rang, the students all gathered their things and left, some satisfied with their scores, others not as much. When the majority of the class was gone, the teacher left with their things to an important meeting within the school. Mondo and Chihiro approached their packing best friend, holding versions of the paper they’d just written on during class.

“How did you do, Ishimaru-kun?” Chihiro asked.

“I got a 99,” Ishimaru answered, slinging the backpack onto his shoulders. “I could have done a lot better, but that’s no excuse to not try harder next time! What about you, Chihiro-kun?”

“Mine was a 94, but it’s not as impressive as yours,” Chihiro laughed sheepishly.

“Now now! It’s still worthy of praise, Chihiro-kun! There’s no need to put yourself down for it!”

“T-True… thank you, Ishimaru-kun. Oowada-kun, what did you get?”

“Eh, it ain’t important. Science is shitty anyways,” Mondo scoffed.

“Let me guess, a 63%?” Ishimaru conjectured, recalling his Diary prediction.

“How the hell did you know?!” Mondo wondered, more than surprised.

“It’s a little thing I like to call a ‘Prefect’s Intuition’!” Ishimaru chuckled, an unconscious hand touching the pocket where his phone was.

“Ah, whatever, Taka,” Mondo laughed humorously, giving Ishimaru an expected, yet friendly bap on the shoulder. “It ain’t anythin’ new that ya did better than I did! C’mon, Kid, let’s go.”

Chihiro nodded and followed Mondo without hesitation. Ishimaru had every intention to follow his only two friends, but was suddenly grabbed forcefully by someone behind him. When he was pulled back far enough, he gasped at seeing the fierce eyes of Mukuro Ikusaba. Ishimaru tried running away from her again, but she refused to let go of him even an inch.

“What do you want from me?!” Ishimaru demanded to know, fear dripping from his cracking voice. “I’m not going to let you kill me!”

“Calm down, that isn’t the reason I’m keeping you here,” Mukuro explained truthfully. “In fact, the reason why is the same one I wanted to speak with you yesterday.”

“...If I listen to you, do you promise you won’t try and attack me when I least expect it?”

“You have my word as a soldier. Now, are you going to stop running around like some helpless child?”

“Yes,” Ishimaru said, facing Mukuro with complete eye contact. “What is it, Ikusaba-kun?”

“I would like to propose… an alliance. Just for the Survival Game, and nothing more.”

“An alliance? _You_ , the fully-competent and bloodthirsty SHSL Soldier, would like to work together with _me_? But, why?”

“Because, I still pity you and your high chance of being the first one out of the Survival Game. So, I figured after Seventh nearly destroyed you, you still need my help. Besides, I’ve given up on trying to kill someone whose methods of fighting back are very sloppy techniques.”

“...Thank you? However, I just don’t believe I’m all too comfortable with an alliance, especially with one of the girls who just tried to slaughter me.”

“Oh. Then I suppose you’re perfectly fine with getting through a game of life and death with nine other people out there trying to tear you limb from limb? Very well, I respect your decision. All I have to say is good luck and I hardly knew ye.”

Now that Mukuro mentioned it, Ishimaru wasn’t very likely to stand a chance against nine other people with just himself. And though past kendō lessons had paid off, his combat skills were subpar compared to Mukuro’s. Right before Mukuro was about to walk away without any other words, it was now Ishimaru’s turn to stop her from leaving by grasping her wrist.

“Wait!” Ishimaru piped out. “...I accept your offer, Ikusaba-kun.”

“Good choice,” Mukuro commented without any particular excitement. “I’m sure we’ll make formidable allies. But first, let me see your Diary.”

Ishimaru took the flip cell phone out of his pocket and, without handing it over to Mukuro, showed him the recent and past predictions he’d received. Mukuro read them word for word, not at all impressed with what she was seeing on the screen. She closed the phone and blinked once with despondency.

“What? Are my predictions not adequate?” Ishimaru asked. “I call it my Friendship Diary. It lets me check up on Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun every now and again to see how they’re doing!”

“To say the least, your Diary is one of the weakest I’ve ever seen,” Mukuro said bluntly, making Ishimaru’s face fall in offense. “And believe me, I have seen some pretty stupid Diaries, but yours takes the cake in levels of being rather pathetic.”

“While I can see where you’re coming from in terms of combat usefulness, I fail to see how a Diary about two of the people I care about the most is ‘pathetic’. Elaborate, ‘Fifth’.”

“There’s absolutely no point in making friends during a game where you can either kill, or be killed yourself. If anything, emotional bonds of any kind will only succeed in slowing you down and distracting you.” Mukuro turned away from Ishimaru, concealing the hurt in her expression with a calm voice tone. “It’s an absolute shame you can’t see that now while it’s not too late.”

“It wouldn’t be wise to see the point of something incredibly absurd. Friends aren’t distractions, I consider them one of life’s little joys. I may only have two in my life, but it’s far better than having none…” Ishimaru straightened up his somber expression with a more professional face as Mukuro turned to face him again. “Besides, I’m sure you’re used to having no one, so it shouldn’t bother you too much, right?”

Mukuro blinked, mouth slightly parted as hints of melancholy radiated from her eyes. She shook her head a bit and returned to showing her usual stoic expression. Now that the alliance was made, she nodded her head while before gathering her belongings together.

“May our alliance carry us to the end,” Mukuro said as she left. “Just don’t make a habit of getting yourself into too much trouble, Sixth. It will end badly for you.”

Once Mukuro left the room, Ishimaru walked out in tow and went to find at least one of his friends. Looking back on the conversation he just had with Mukuro and what was forged from it, he was wondering whether or not he should regret it.


	6. Day 6 Part 2: Setting "Fourth" A Mall Chase!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> Zeke: I wouldn't exactly call Ishimaru a *wuss*, considering he was trying to avoid the girl who attempted to /kill/ him just the other night. So, it's kind of understandable he's scared shitless of Mukuro XD. Also, have a little faith in Taka; his Diary can prove to be useful in the *future* (lol).
> 
> (Head's up: This is my first ever time writing for the character mentioned in this title, so my characterization is very shaky and I'm just getting the hang of it)

Ishimaru’s diary went off again, this time giving him another set of updated future events. The top and closest one said “09:13: Chihiro-kun comes up and asks me if I’d like to accompany him at the local mall after classes today. I’m not one for malls, but it’s such a nice offer!”. Below it was a future scenario that read “16:01: Chihiro-kun meets up with me outside with a rather… surprising guest.”, which Ishimaru chose not to heed the latter part of it.

The current time was only a minute earlier, so Ishimaru walked ahead and awaited Chihiro’s arrival. As he’d anticipated, the SHSL Hacker approached him at the bottom of the stairs with the predicted proposal.

“Ishimaru-kun, I understand you’re busy,” Chihiro started. “B-But, I was wondering if you’d like to--”

“--Accompany you somewhere later this afternoon?” Ishimaru finished, “Suppose later on at four o’clock?”

“A-Actually, yes! That’s exactly what I was going to ask you! Is that your 'Prefect's Intuition' again?" Chihiro giggled.

"Indeed it is! In that case, I would be delighted to join you later on!"

"As would I. If that's alright with you," Mukuro suggested politely, approaching and startling her classmates.

"O-Oh, hello, Ikusaba-san," Chihiro squeaked. "I never took you for the shopping type. What's the occasion?"

"I have to purchase some supplies," Mukuro answered. "So, I might as well take the opportunity. If you'll permit me to do so."

"W-Well, I wouldn't mind going with more than one person, so I don't see why not! Ishimaru-kun, is that okay with you?"

The Prefect glanced at the Soldier with worried eyes, bucking up suddenly so as not to start trouble with his new ally. He tried convincing himself that Mukuro by his side would turn out better this time around.

"It's alright with me," Ishimaru answered. "Ikusaba-kun is more than free to join us."

"Splendid. What time shall we rendezvous?"

"Four this afternoon," Chihiro answered with a delicate smile on his face. "I'll see you guys then!"

Chihiro walked off to his other class, leaving Ishimaru alone with the calm Mukuro. He looked at her with a face full of uncertainty. When she noticed, her expression remained entirely calm.

"You haven't a thing to worry about," Mukuro assured him. "With me around, you'll be more alert in tracking down the other Diary Holders. Your life won't be cut shorter this way if you defend yourself properly."

"G-Great... I shall keep my eyes peeled for the others."

Mukuro went off to mind her own business as Ishimaru went in a different direction. On his way to the Disciplinary Committee, Ishimaru took a few deep breaths to calm his nagging distrust of the second guest in the future trip to the shopping mall. Although Mukuro was doing a good job in keeping her word about not killing him, he had a feeling she'd break that promise if they were the only two left after finding and defeating more Diary Holders. So, something in him hoped he'd never have to encounter anymore people who wanted him and Mukuro dead.

* * *

 By 3:50 in the afternoon, Ishimaru had caught up on his studies. So, he was more than ready to go. Taking his pocketed Future Diary with him, he closed the room door and left the school to begin his walk to where Chihiro was. The mall wasn't too close a distance from Hope's Peak, but it was a good walk for Ishimaru. A minute after the decided meeting time, Ishimaru saw Chihiro in the front doors of the mall next to Mukuro.

"Oh, there you are, Ishimaru-kun!" Chihiro chirped, holding onto his cased computer tightly. "Ikusaba-san got here pretty earlier than you did. Isn't that something?"

"Salutations," Mukuro greeted in a nonchalant tone.

"Hello again, Ikusaba-kun," Ishimaru responded with a doubtful smile and a bead of sweat rolling down his face. "Let's make this 'hanging out day' a good one, shall we?"

"Like I said, you'll have nothing to worry about with me around."

Chihiro hadn't a clue what was going on between his classmates, but he didn't want to worry about it and ruin the day. The three students went inside the mall, crossing into a busy food court of customers. Ishimaru walked through the food court with Chihiro and Mukuro, the latter looking back and forth owlishly in search of more Diary Holders. Just then, Ishimaru felt something soft and plush cushioning the heel of his boot. Picking the item up, he saw he’d stepped on a toy rabbit wearing a yellow bow on one ear that was white on one side with a black eye, and pink on the other with a red eye. In addition, the rabbit doll was wearing a diaper with a rectangular block secured inside.

“It looks like somebody lost their stuffed animal,” Ishimaru noted.

“Aww, that’s terrible!” Chihiro commented, feeling empathy for whoever lost the rabbit. “Maybe we should return it to the owner.”

“But who could have lost it?” Mukuro wondered. “There has to be hundreds of children in his giant mall.”

“What’s this in its diaper?” Ishimaru questioned, pulling out a closed baby pink-colored handheld. “Some sort of gaming system?”

“Usami!” a light female’s voice called out, running through the food court towards Ishimaru with her doll.

The girl stopped running, and at the first sight of her, Ishimaru was more than bewildered. He was in no way expecting the doll’s owner to look around their age, if not a year older. And yet before him was a girl with shoulder-length light grayish-pink hair clipped with some sort of spaceship clip wearing a navy blue hoodie over a white blouse and light tan skirt. Her pale pink eyes were friendly and looking at the group as she took her rabbit doll back, but turned noticeably scared when she saw Ishimaru had her game. When Ishimaru handed the portable game system back, she quickly stashed it back in Usami's diaper.

"Chiaki-san?" Chihiro wondered, recognizing the girl completely.

"Hi, Chihiro!" she greeted back in a soft, yet weary voice and a waving. "I never thought I'd see you here."

"Guys, this is my cousin, Chiaki Nanami," Chihiro introduced to Ishimaru and Mukuro. "I mean, we're not actually _blood_ relatives, but we know each other that well!"

"It's very nice to meet you, Nanami-kun!" Ishimaru greeted, shaking the girl's free hand. "I'm Kiyotaka Ishimaru!"

"Mukuro Ikusaba," Mukuro said, waving delicately when Nanami looked at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Nanami waved back, but paused as her mind went utterly blank at the situations. She stared at them for a few seconds, which confused Ishimaru as Mukuro’s response was to look right back with equally confused steel blue eyes. Chihiro took the initiative to get Nanami’s attention, which snapped her out of it.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I was trying to compose what I wanted to say to Ishimaru-kun and Ikusaba-san.”

“Right!” Chihiro agreed. “Because if you don’t, then you can’t piece together what you want to get out.”

“Is it always going to be like that?” Mukuro asked.

“No. It should get better once I get to know you guys more,” Nanami answered. “Anyways, thanks for finding Usami. I thought I’d lost her for good.”

“I forgot you still had her after all this time,” Chihiro commented. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my stuffed bunny…”

“Let’s just say that lately, Usami’s been a really big help. Especially since I’ve been so worn out nowadays.”

“But aren’t you always sleeping anyways? Have you been pulling gaming all-nighters again?”

“I’m not sure, maybe…” Nanami yawned, covering the mighty exhale with one hand. “So, what are you guys doing here?”

“We’re just having together as friends!” Ishimaru answered, smiling at Chihiro.

“Well, I’m mostly just here to pick up some supplies,” Mukuro corrected. “Not that Fujisaki-san has been a bad host, of course.”

“Do you wanna join up with us, Chiaki-san?” Chihiro asked.

“No, thanks,” Nanami declined politely, fiddling with the double-screened gaming system in her doll’s diaper compartment nervously. “I have some stuff to get done myself. But, I’ll have to see you guys next time!”

“Okay, thanks for stopping by, Chiaki-san. I’ll see you later, then?”

Nanami nodded yes and walked off to a different part of the store with her doll. From the moment Chihiro and his classmates were out of sight, Nanami sat herself on a bench situated on the sidelines of one store. Taking the DS out of Usami’s diaper, Nanami opened the system and read the mystic messages to herself.

“I’m gonna die in two hours unless I do something,” Nanami sighed, reading the message “18:10: Final Level: 4th Floor’s Bathroom. Your Diary is broken by one of the two Diary Holders you met earlier. DEAD END”. “But I don’t even wanna play this stupid Survival Game. If you can even _call_ it a game, that is. Who’d wanna be part of something that involves killing others for selfish reasons?”

Closing the upsetting augur of a game system, Nanami concealed it in her doll’s diaper again. Nanami decided to just go about her day without worry and hurry home to safety. But in the meantime, she’d still have to keep an eye out for any other Diary Holders, still unaware of their identities from the people she’d talked to that day.

Meanwhile, Chihiro, Ishimaru, and Mukuro were all in a top-notch computer product store, the former most student waiting in line for a special upgrade to his laptop. The line was rather long, and only the SHSL Hacker had the patience and purpose in being there to begin with. Mukuro looked openly bored from the wait, and while Ishimaru shared the same feeling, he intended to wait it out with his friend. He looked at his phone, which had a prediction that read “17:03: Chihiro-kun finally made it to the front and upgraded his computer. It took a while, but he said it was worth the wait.”. It would be a little over a good half hour before Chihiro got his turn, so Ishimaru let out a sigh of discontent.

“Y-You guys don’t have to wait with me,” Chihiro insisted humbly. “This is something I need to do, but you’re free to go somewhere else and I’ll call when I’m done.”

“Chihiro-kun, I’d hate to leave you all alone--” Ishimaru began.

“--Really, it’s fine. I can wait all day, but I don’t want you and Ikusaba-san to get bored because of me. I’ll just call you when I finish, okay?”

“If that’s what you want, then who am I to disrespect it?” Ishimaru sighed, now having to leave with Mukuro.

“We’ll be back later, Fujisaki-san,” Mukuro told the smaller boy. “Just focus on getting your upgrade.”

Chihiro waved bye to his friend and classmate, while the duo walked back into the main intersection of the bustling mall. Mukuro was completely focused on the lookout of more Diary Holders that could be present, checking her Diary for future battle tactics she might have to use. When her last-minute predicting phone failed to give her anything, Mukuro put it away in her shirt pocket.

Walking past a few stores with Ishimaru in silence, Mukuro spotted the first store she was looking for. Inside were several supplies for sports, including the tools and protective gear for playing anything. Mukuro took Ishimaru across the threshold to the market, where she went off into the “Guns & Ammo” section, making Ishimaru’s nerves go raw with inner nervousness. He went off to a less “lethal” part of the store to wait for his accomplice, stopping in his tracks when he bumped into another girl. The ocean blue eyes and wavy brown upper ponytail he saw with the sporty getup made him recognize Aoi Asahina, the SHSL Swimmer and one of his classmates.

“Hey, Ishimaru!” Asahina greeted energetically. “What brings you here? Buying new kendō supplies or something?”

“Hello, Asahina-kun!” Ishimaru responded, “And I could, but I’m undecided yet. What are you buying here?”

“Just some sports supplies, the usual. A few dumbbells, some protein coffee powder for me and Sakura-chan, a new bathing suit, y’know, the works! I decided to get some supplies for some… events, down the road.”

“It’s always nice to think ahead! And it was nice talking to you, fellow classmate. We’ll have to do it again sometime, right?”

“Yep! Maybe we can meet up for a little swim race or something. See ya!”

Asahina left with her purchased items, fiddling with the touch screen on her iPod to mark off the things she’d bought. At the same time, Mukuro came back with not just some ammo for her machine gun and bazooka back at Hope’s Peak, but also a metal baseball bat, which she handed over to Ishimaru.

“Umm, what’s this for, Ikusaba-kun?” Ishimaru asked.

“Self-defense,” Mukuro answered, going over to a lineless register and paying for her ammo. “There wasn’t much to choose from in his store that you have the skills to use, so I had to improvise. Besides, it’ll do good in case we’re ambushed before we get back to school.”

“Very well then,” Ishimaru agreed half-heartedly, paying for his new baseball bat. “Thank you, Ikusaba-kun.”

“You’re more than free to thank me when you live to see another day.”

Both students thanked the cashier after receiving change back for their goods, leaving the store with the bagged items in their grasp. The next stop for Mukuro was on the second floor, and needless to say, it was a drastic change from the last store in terms of what was purchased there. Mukuro stepped inside a cute, pink little accessory shop, browsing around until she found the pack of hairclips she’d been looking for. Each one had two of a different design, a prominent one that caught the SHSL Soldier’s eye having an adorable cat’s head.

The hairclips actually made Mukuro’s lips crease into a small smile, her heart warmed and pleased by the pack of her item. Picking it up, she went to another section of the accessory shop, browsing through different mini-lotion bottles and hand soaps until she found the strawberry scented bottle of the former she was looking for. After Mukuro paid for her items, she exited the shop with Ishimaru following behind.

“I never took you for the type to buy…” Ishimaru hesitated.

“What? ‘Girly things’?” Mukuro guessed with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, yes. Usually, you’re always focused on combat and war; stuff that isn’t typically considered ‘girly’, as you say.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve been meaning to get my hands on these clips for my hair, and I’m pleased with their adorable design. Also, it’s easy for my hands to get dry every now and then, so I picked a worthy lotion scent.”

“I see. Is that all you came here to buy? Ammo and some accessories?”

“Yes, those are the supplies I wanted. Do you need anything here, or are we all set to return to Fujisaki-san?”

Before Ishimaru could answer, he heard another loud static noise. However, the lack of newer updates on his phone proved it wasn’t his Diary making the noise, and Mukuro refuted the assumption of it coming from hers. For the two allied Diary Holders, it could only mean one thing: They weren’t the only ones who had a magic future-predicting device in his building.

“Did you hear which way it came from?” Mukuro asked.

“Up ahead!” Ishimaru pointed in said direction.

When they looked straight in front of them, they saw Nanami in the crowd with her pink DS. The gamer let out a gasp when she made eye contact with the other two after the loud static noise from seconds ago, quickly deducing that the two Diary Holders her own Diary was referring to were Ishimaru and Mukuro. With that figured out, she held onto her game system of the future and stuffed rabbit while rushing ahead of the crowd.

“Nanami-kun clearly saw us,” Ishimaru noted. “You don’t think…?”

“It’s certainly possible,” Mukuro answered the incomplete question. “If she weren’t a Diary Holder, then she would have greeted us instead of running away for apparently no reason. Let’s follow her, and stay on your toes.”

The sound of the updated future from Nanami’s DS gave her the message “16:42: Level One: Mall Corridors. You’ve been spotted by the two Diary Holders from earlier. Head towards the nearest boutique on the right side of the third floor after taking the stairs.”. In a panic, she ran faster past a crowd of customers and did just that. Looking behind, she saw Ishimaru and Mukuro giving chase and starting to catch up, prompting her to force her legs to pick up the pace.

 _“If they catch me, I’m cooked!”_ Nanami thought, panting as she climbed the stairs to the third floor. _“I’ve gotta shake them off somehow!”_

Stepping over the last of the many steps, Nanami moved through the crowd and into the nearest boutique, customers covering the store in every inch. She ran towards the back of the store, grabbing a random shirt off of the shelf and stopping at the dressing room.

“I’ll be trying on this… blouse,” Nanami lied to the front desk administrator.

“Here’s your door number,” the lady said, giving Nanami a card with a number 1 on it.

Nanami hurried into the dressing rooms, creeping into one of the empty stalls and locking the door. Opening her Future Diary, Nanami read another prediction saying “16:48: Level One: Dressing Rooms. Fifth looks all over the dressing rooms for you, waiting to eliminate your entire existence. Sneak out of the stall by creeping underneath the door quietly. One wrong sound will be the end of you.”. On that cue, Nanami peeked under and saw the dark loafers and knee socks belonging to Mukuro Ikusaba, blade drawn and hawk-like gaze scanning the room for her opponent. The Soldier stopped for a minute when she believed herself to have sensed something, but kept moving further down the room after finding seemingly nothing. That was Nanami’s chance, so she closed the DS-shaped Diary and concealed it in Usami’s diaper, carrying the doll out with her under the door.

“Made it,” Nanami breathed when she was away from Mukuro.

Reading her Diary, the Gamer saw another prediction instructing her to leave the boutique as soon as possible by staying hidden in the crowd of customers while escaping. But on her way out, Nanami was caught by Ishimaru near the boutique, and the Hall Monitor held Nanami tightly in his arm grasp. Never once did Nanami let go of her Diary or Usami, but Ishimaru grip was just as strong.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I had a choice,” Ishimaru told the girl. “But I mustn’t let my guard down around other Diary Holders!”

“Let go of me, I don’t--” Nanami began to say.

“Well done, Sixth,” Mukuro commented, escaping the boutique and finding her ally with the captured Diary Holder. “And now, to dispose of yet another unfortunate Diary Holder.”

Nanami’s Diary was still out in the open, but she caught a glimpse of an entry saying “16:53: Level One: Outside the Boutique. You’ve been captured by Fifth and Sixth. The latter has a healing injury in his abdomen, so jab him there to move onto the next level before Fifth gets to you.”. It only took the second sentence for Nanami to understand what to do, so she obeyed the Diary and gave Ishimaru a swift elbow in the stomach, the pain from his recovering gash making him release Nanami in favor of clasping his old wound.

“You won’t be able to catch me,” Nanami told her former captors. “With my Guide Diary by my side, I know the perfect strategies for staying alive. As the Fourth Diary Holder, I’m gonna make sure this so-called ‘game’ doesn’t bring anyone down with it!”

Before Mukuro could charge at her again, Nanami ran right off with the Guide Diary in the diaper of her doll. Soon enough, she was out of sight and hard to track from that distance. Ishimaru felt rather disappointed in himself for accidentally letting Nanami slip through his hands, but he refused to let him get that down as he had a new mission in mind for now. There was a slight nagging feeling in the back of his mind about what Nanami just said before fleeing, but he suppressed it when Mukuro grabbed him by the wrist and started chasing Nanami, incepting a potentially vigorous hunt through a local shopping mall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Olympian Alignment: Nanami Chiaki = Persephone/Proserpina (no particular reason for this one, but I guess because in canon they've both been "trapped" in a way, and Chiaki's the "child" of someone important in the actual DR canon). PS, in this AU because I forgot Chiaki was an AI when I made her "Fourth", she's a regular human and long-time friend of Chihiro's.


	7. Day 6 Part 3: Store Wars: Regret of the Sixth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes, I did that title on purpose) 
> 
> Comment responses:
> 
> QwertysHuman: That notion won't last very long. Not only because of this chapter, but also because Fourth is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Also, she might not be the only one you feel bad for, but who can say? Though in my opinion, this chapter was a bit difficult to write.

“We can’t let Fourth get away!” Mukuro declared, still rushing through the crowd.

“Something doesn’t seem right though,” Ishimaru noted. “How come Nanami-kun didn’t fight us back? Isn’t she a Diary Holder?”

“How should I know? All I know is that when we find her, she won’t stand a chance. Is your… weapon ready, Sixth?”

Ishimaru remembered the large bag he’d been holding onto and out he pulled a metal bat Mukuro had given him from the sports store. Nodding, Mukuro ran forward towards where she last remembered seeing Nanami, Ishimaru following right behind.

Back on the first floor, Chihiro had just gotten the upgrade for his laptop and was now sitting in a corner of the food court awaiting his classmates. From across the area, he saw Nanami and started waving to get her attention.

"Chiaki-san! Over here!" Chihiro called, summoning Nanami over to the table.

"Chihiro, please don't make a scene," Nanami whispered.

"Why not? Are you okay, Chiaki-san?"

"Yeah... I'm fine. You just shouldn't cause commotion in public is all. Then our reputation meter might go down suddenly..."

"Y-You have a point. Listen, I've been waiting for my friends, but Taka hasn't answered his phone. Would you mind helping me look for them?"

Right then, Nanami's mind was telling her that the "yes option" would result in an instant "Game Over" for her if she got caught by Ishimaru and Mukuro again. But, she knew saying no to her longtime "cousin" would most likely upset him, so that option wasn't good either. Scratching her cheek, the Gamer processed some strategies without the use of her Guide Diary. A good minute later, she thought of something to escape certain death.

"Sure," Nanami answered with a tired yawn. "Let's go find Ishimaru-kun and Ikusaba-san."

"Thank you, Chiaki-san! I owe you big time for this!"

Unbeknownst to Chihiro, his surrogate cousin had no intention of leading him directly to Ishimaru or Mukuro. Looking at her Guide Diary while they walked, Nanami saw the words "17:01: Level Two: Food Court. You now have your innocent 'cousin' by your side while hiding from Fifth and Sixth. In order to prevent Chihiro from getting roped into the mess, keep him ignorant by taking refuge in the video game store you love so much.". Closing the Diary and hiding it in Usami's diaper, Nanami started leading Chihiro there.

* * *

 Back on the third floor, Ishimaru and Mukuro were searching for their runaway opponent. The Soldier checked her Tactics Diary for any future fighting strategies with Nanami, but she unfortunately found nothing. Suddenly, the future changed in Ishimaru's Friendship Diary of all things, giving him a useful prediction.

"What does it say, Sixth?" Mukuro asked.

"It says Chihiro-kun is with Nanami-kun! In... the video game shop two floors under us!"

"It's about time that Diary of yours predicted something useful. Come on, let's not waste time. We can still take out Fourth."

Ishimaru and Mukuro hurried to the stairs, the male of the duo still questioning whether or not taking this one down was right. But lest he get another talking-to from his unlikely ally, he had to push it back and ignore it.

At the same time, Nanami had dozed off while browsing through some notable game titles that tickled her fancy. At the front desk was Chihiro, asking worriedly about his friends, only for the cashier to say he hadn't seen them. From within the Usami doll's diaper was a future change signal, snapping Nanami awake instantly and commanding her to check the Diary.

"They found me?!" Nanami gasped, "But how?"

"Chiaki-san, is there a problem?" Chihiro asked. "What was that interference I heard? Do you need me to take a look at your game?"

"No, Chihiro, my game's fine. Right now, we'd better look for your classmates somewhere else."

"Good. The cashier said they weren't even here."

Nanami ran out of the store with Chihiro. Despite being even wearier and more tired than she usually was, Nanami kept her Guide Diary close and ran ahead to a different store. By the time Ishimaru and Mukuro arrived, Nanami was long gone with Chihiro. Ishimaru’s Future Diary changed its entries again, creating a particular one that said “17:11: Chihiro-kun is with Nanami-kun in the large clothing store on the second floor.”. With that, Ishimaru told Mukuro to follow him up to the second floor to find the missing twosome.

In the store they were hiding in, Nanami and Chihiro wandered all around the vast store of clothes, cosmetics, and jewelry. Both were on the lookout for Ishimaru and Mukuro, though the former had an entirely different reason than her so-called “cousin”. Nanami checked her Guide Diary, which just updated with a prediction saying in a few minutes, Ishimaru and Mukuro would spot them the second they crossed into the entrance. So, she had to follow the strategy on the device saying to move away from the aforementioned spot.

“Chihiro, follow me,” Nanami said, grabbing Chihiro’s hand and moving more towards the back of the store.

“Sixth, where are they now?” Mukuro asked when she and her associate entered the store and the Friendship Diary changed its future.

“Chihiro-kun and Fourth are over in the men’s wearhouse!” Ishimaru pointed out, “But be careful, there’s a large crowd.”

“Then we’ll have to be quick. Let’s go!”

Mukuro rushed over to the predicted section of the store with Ishimaru in tow. When they arrived, neither Chihiro nor Nanami was in sight. Mukuro looked around for the Fourth Diary Holder, preparing to draw her knife for combat. Ishimaru aided in searching as well, drawing his not as impressive metal bat in case of any unexpected attacks.

They had to move through a forest of male customers in their search, but still had difficulty finding the missing Fourth and her guest. Unbeknownst to Ishimaru and Mukuro, Nanami was hiding behind a rack of several tuxedo coats, covering Chihiro’s mouth until the boots and socked loafers belonging to the hunters passed by their section.

“Chiaki-san, wh-what’s going on?” Chihiro whispered, “Who are we hiding from?”

“Ish-- I mean,” Chiaki corrected herself, “two people are looking for me, and I don’t want them to find me. We have to stay hidden, or this will turn into a level even I can’t beat.”

“What do they want from you? What did you do?”

“Let’s just say I’m forced to be a part of something I want nothing to do with. But, even now I realize I’m gonna have to fight back at some point. For now, I can’t get caught.”

“Try hiding all you want, Fourth,” Mukuro spoke in a hauntingly cold tone. “When I find you, this room will be your tomb.”

“Ikusaba-kun, perhaps we shouldn’t bother with this one,” Ishimaru suggested. “It doesn’t seem like Nanami-kun wants to fight us.”

“Then she’s making a big mistake. Also, giving up is out of the question for me. The only time I’ll surrender is when I’ve eliminated who’s necessary. Then my mission will be complete.”

“What exactly is your mission? Tell me.”

“That’s classified information, Sixth. Now, where does your Diary say Fujisaki-san is located? Wherever he is, the Fourth will be with him.”

“Let me see,” Ishimaru sighed, seeing how reason was deaf on Mukuro’s ears. “My Diary says Chihiro-kun is under one of these racks in this section. We will find him in less than three minutes.”

Nanami panicked at overhearing Ishimaru, quickly discovering Ishimaru’s Diary was tracking her because she had Chihiro with her. Checking her Guide Diary quickly, a new entry was discovered. Word by word, she read “17:25: Level Three: Men’s Wearhouse Section. Fifth and Sixth have spotted you! Get out of there as fast as you can before it’s too late!”.

“Chiaki-san?” Chihiro wondered.

“Stay here,” Nanami warned, closing the Diary and sheathing it in Usami’s diaper, sneaking out of the clothes’ rack undetected as her arms grasped the doll tightly.

At that moment, Mukuro found a pair of white Mary Janes worn over black knee socks and instantly lifted up the racked clothes. She managed to find the frightened and confused Chihiro, but Nanami was nowhere in sight. Looking all around the section, Mukuro failed to find her target until she saw a flash of gray-pink hair running out of the store.

“Sixth, there she goes!” Mukuro declared, pointing an index finger to the entrance where Nanami was fleeing. “After her! Don’t let Fourth get away!”

Spinning around, Ishimaru bolted out of the room with the silver metal bat in his hand, chasing after Nanami. When he was gone, Mukuro helped Chihiro out of the clothes’ rack, and saw the boy was beyond confused and worried.

“Ikusaba-san, what’s going on?” Chihiro asked the Soldier. “Chiaki-san’s acting strangely.”

“Everything will be fine, Fujisaki-san,” Mukuro assured him calmly. “There’s no doubt things will clear up before we leave. Now, stay close by and out of trouble. I’ll be right back.”

As Mukuro left Chihiro behind, Nanami was running from the armed Ishimaru, whose eyes were locked dead on her being. The Gamer kept running while holding onto her Usami doll, going up to the third floor via the large flight of stairs. Starting to run low on breath, Nanami turned and rushed into a cooking shop full of supplies and appliances for a kitchen. She wormed her way through aisles filled with kitchenware, stopping to catch her breath when she couldn’t see Ishimaru anywhere close to her.

“‘17:41: Level Four: Kitchenware Shop. Sixth approaches you, aiming to smash your Diary with a metal bat. Use your surroundings to your advantage and fight back to protect yourself.’,” Nanami read to herself from her Diary, now having a few minutes to save her skin.

Nanami stayed hidden within the aisles for a bit, keeping a lookout for Ishimaru. At the end of the aisle, she saw a table carrying an assortment of pots, pans, and large silverware for preparing food. Going over to it, she searched the table for a suitable defense weapon, but quickly ran out of time when Ishimaru found her and began to strike. In the heat of the moment, Nanami grabbed a large metal pan lid, using it in order to deflect Ishimaru’s first strike with a bat. Due to his superior skills in kendō, the Hall Monitor’s attack proved to be a lot harsher than Nanami expected.

 _“If a cooking lid can be used as a shield in 358/2 Days,”_ Nanami thought, deflecting the blows to the lid, _“then it just might save me!”_

Ishimaru kept striking at Nanami with the metal bat, leaving lots of dents and damage in the large makeshift cooking shield she bore. Nanami moved backwards to avoid another swing while holding up the metal shield, but Ishimaru was persistent, making another attempt to hit the rather nimble Gamer.

“Give. Up. Nanami-kun!” Ishimaru cried out, chinking the pan lid some more with the bat.

“You first, Sixth!” Nanami proclaimed, this time swinging out at Ishimaru with the damaged lid-shield.

Now, while Ishimaru kept attempting to strike Nanami or her Guide Diary with the cold metal of the bat, Nanami started swinging back with her languishing metal shield-like lid. The brawl between the two started to knock things everywhere, fragile items shattering, burlier things merely falling off of their vessels and making a mess on the floor. Customers and employees were greatly disturbed by the ruckus, scattering everywhere away from the fight until someone who was presumably the manager grabbed the two fighting teenagers and tossed them out of the store, their weapons left behind when they got up.

Nanami ran all the way into another store full of nothing but retro paraphernalia and bizarre t-shirts mixed with other strange gadgets. She tried outrunning Ishimaru, but he proved to be quicker and subdued her in no time, restraining her to the ground while she had her Diary held out away from the underside of her body so it wouldn’t get crushed in the hold.

“It’s all over, Nanami-kun,” Ishimaru declared firmly, reaching for her Diary. “It greatly pains me to do this, but I cannot risk letting another Diary Holder kill me or anyone else!”

“But, I don’t want to kill anyone!” Nanami announced, holding onto Usami and the Diary tightly. “I never did.”

“How can I be so sure you aren’t making that up? I want to believe you, but--”

“If I wanted to kill you, don’t you think I would have tried to before running away in the first place? Sixth, I’m not sure why Kamukura and Enoshima wanted me in this whole thing, but I wish they hadn’t.”

Ishimaru paused for a moment, finally deciding to stop holding Nanami to the ground. He awaited for her to strike him, but the chance never came into existence. Instead, Nanami held Usami close to her to protect her literal lifeline.

“This whole ‘Survival Game’ shouldn’t even be called a game to begin with,” Nanami commented, eyes falling with sorrow and slight frustration. “Why would you call something a game if it’s impossible to have fun with it? That’s not what a game is, nor is it right to call it such.”

“Nanami-kun, is that how you really feel?” Ishimaru asked.

“Yes. If becoming a Goddess means killing several people, then it’s not worth being a part of this life or death scenario. I know I’m probably gonna wind up dead sooner or later, but the least I could do is protect myself and others who aren’t supposed to be involved.”

If there was any time for Ishimaru to feel bad about what he was doing, now would be it. He looked at Nanami sincerely, now knowing that she truly wanted nothing to do with the Survival Game one bit. However, he also knew very well that she wouldn’t last very long if she made even a single wrong move. Nanami was just as aware of her imminent fate as well, and yet she seemed undeterred by it.

“Even if I don’t last very long, you have to try and keep going,” Nanami told Ishimaru. “Just keep fighting and believing in yourself, no matter what.”

“Wonderful job, Sixth,” a voice said, revealed to be coming from Mukuro, who was walking up to Nanami with her trusty blade unsheathed. “Now step aside so I can finish the job and get things over with.”

“Nanami-kun, get out of here!” Ishimaru shouted as Nanami ran past Mukuro with her Usami doll carrying her Guide Diary.

Nanami ran as fast as she could from the swift Soldier, while Mukuro herself had a chilling glare in her eyes as she was on Nanami’s tail with little effort save for her running. As she ran, Nanami checked her Guide Diary once again, which now had an entry that said “17:59: Level Four: Elevator: You’re being tailed by Fifth. Hide anywhere you can find with your Diary on the fourth floor to avoid being seen by her!”. Thankfully, the elevator was on her left, so Nanami hurried over and pressed the button going up. In seconds, the elevator doors opened right up and the Gamer ran right inside, mashing the button for the fourth floor as the doors closed slowly. But right before they could reunite with each other, both of the doors were stopped from closing by Mukuro’s blade and tattooed right hand, opening right up and letting the SHSL Soldier right in before shutting once again.

“Nowhere to run, Fourth,” Mukuro breathed menacingly, eyes colder than a winter’s blizzard. “Now, hold still so I can get this done.”

When the elevator started moving up, Mukuro made the first strike at Nanami, but the Fourth Diary Holder quickly evaded the attack by ducking. During the brief rise up to the 4th Floor, Nanami was trapped and cornered by the hostile Fifth Diary Holder until doors to the elevator opened up again, letting her escape the small rectangular transport vessel. Running along the upper mall floor, the first thing Nanami saw as a hiding place was the girls’ bathroom after a corner turn. She rushed right in, hiding in a stall as Mukuro followed behind.

 _“What does my Diary say now?”_ Nanami thought, flipping open the DS and looking at one frightening message. _“...Oh no! My Dead End hasn’t changed a bit! I walked right into the trap!”_

Just then, Mukuro kicked open the exact stall Nanami was taking refuge in. Slowly approaching the startled Gamer, Mukuro raised her blade high up without any hint of emotion in her pale blue eyes that could pierce someone sharper than steel. But, when she saw Nanami sigh and refuse to defend herself, Mukuro paused for one moment.

“Fight back,” Mukuro demanded in a firm tone devoid of much emotion.

“...No, Fifth,” Nanami sighed in defeat. “It’s over for me. Go ahead, destroy me or my Diary. I never wanted anything to do with this poor excuse of a ‘Game’ to begin with.” She looked up at Mukuro with delicate pink eyes, not refusing contact for even a second. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I haven’t a single choice, Fourth. Getting rid of the other Diary Holders is the only way I can be happy again.”

“How? How could killing anyone make you happy? There’s gotta be some kind of reason.”

“...Living in a world without my Naegi-kun shouldn’t have to be an option. When I’m a Goddess, I’ll be able to bring him back, end these stupid Survival Games for good, and all will be well again. That’s what Kamukura-kun and Junko-chan told me, at least. I’m doing all of this for Naegi-kun’s sake.”

“So… you do have someone you love and care about. That’s another thing we have in common. Are you sure there’s no other way out of this, Fifth?”

“More than sure. If there were another method, trust me, I’d have taken it. But, duty must come before anything. And if fixing everything and bringing back someone very important in my life means taking another, then so be it.”

“...If this Naegi is so important to you that you’d do anything to see him again…  then fine. At this point, who am I to try and stop you?”

Without another word, Mukuro thrust her knife through the open DS, puncturing its bottom screen all the way through and a layer of Nanami’s stomach. A few trickles of blood seeped from Nanami’s skin onto the floor as pieces of the Guide Diary’s bottom screen fell in small pieces from the large crack. Nanami’s body began distorting and disappearing, a sad smile forming in her fading lips.

“One last thing… Ikusaba-san,” the dying Nanami spoked out.

“What?” Mukuro wondered.

“...Make sure Chihiro doesn’t find out about what happened to me, or anything about the Survival Game… He just doesn’t… deserve…”

Nanami’s entire body kept swirling sideways until she disappeared in a vortex, leaving behind the Usami doll and the damaged DS on the bathroom floor. While the act of physically killing someone failed to bother Mukuro one bit, the Soldier felt a twinge of pity at yet another life being taken because of the needless Survival Game. Sighing, she took the knife out of the powerless gaming system and resheathed it, exiting the bathroom with the thought of one Diary Holder being down, and more to go if she wanted to complete her hazardous mission.

 _“Don’t worry, Mukuro,”_ she thought to herself, walking through the mall’s busy corridors and down the stairs, _“this will all be over sooner than you think.”_

Mukuro finally reached the first floor and left the mall building, catching up with Ishimaru and Chihiro. Before looking at them, she put on another emotionless expression as she calmed herself quite easily. When Ishimaru saw that Nanami wasn’t behind her, he knew exactly what the end verdict was. Needless to say, the Hall Monitor was horrified, while Mukuro gave him an impassive glance before walking with the two boys.

“Where’s Chiaki-san?” Chihiro asked, unknowingly making Ishimaru flinch with regret.

“Nanami-san had to leave,” Mukuro half-lied. “She said she had somewhere urgent to be.”

“O-Oh, okay. It’s kind of strange she didn’t tell me before. She must have been going somewhere important.”

The three students were able to make it back to Hope’s Peak after a ten minute walk. A worn-out Chihiro took his newly updated laptop with him into his room, leaving his two taller classmates alone together. Ishimaru saw that Mukuro was seemingly undeterred from what she’d just done, making the assumption she’d finished the job with no hassle.

“She didn’t want to kill anyone or become God,” Ishimaru said with horror.

“Her first mistake exactly,” Mukuro responded coldly, keeping Ishimaru ignorant of what she said to Nanami before taking her life. “It was Fourth’s fault for choosing not to participate in the Survival Game, so now she’s dead. You can’t get around that no matter how much you try.”

“But she just wanted to make things okay! Nanami-kun saw something was wrong with this game, so why can’t you?! You must love taking lives as if it were some sort of… stress reliever!” Ishimaru snapped, now tearful and sobbing in his shouts. “How on Earth could you not see that this Survival Game is **sick and wrong**?!”

Mukuro stopped in her tracks at Ishimaru’s assumptions. She dared not waste her time trying to convince him otherwise, it being obvious he wouldn’t believe a word she would say after he knew what she did at the mall. Instead, she gave him yet another cold glance without breaking face even for a second.

“I will do _whatever_ it takes to get to the end, Sixth,” Mukuro said to him with a stoic voice. “It’s foolish to actually become attached to anyone in this game, so quit now while you still can. And you’re more than free to sever your alliance with me, but just know that doing so will make you another enemy of mine again.”

Glaring at Mukuro with angry tears still streaming down his face, Ishimaru took a deep breath and regained composure, even when the tears and sniffles refused to stop. He assured her he wouldn’t break the alliance to survive, but said nothing else and left with a shake of his head in disappointment. Even when Mukuro was out of his sight, Ishimaru’s gut twisted with a disgusting feeling at realizing he’d have to experience it again if he wanted to keep living.

* * *

 In Kamukura’s Realm, the titular God was rewatching Nanami’s demise on the giant screen from his throne. Not at all shaken by a death he’d seen many times before, Kamukura sighed as more hair invaded his pale face. Floating next to him in front of a conjured mirror, Junko was applying crimson lipstick to her face and tending to her mascara.

“At least someone finally reached their Dead End,” Kamukura noted.

“About time!” Junko cheered, turning to face her partner. “So, Izu-chan? What do ya think? Does this color bring out my eyes~?” she purred, blinking at the God three times to try and appease him,

“You putting on makeup doesn’t affect me, Enoshima,” Kamukura sighed with indifference. “It’s not like you look any different. Besides, who are you trying to impress? We’re the only ones who live in this realm.”

“Boo, you’re no fun! Anyways, you said Fourth kicked the bucket or something?”

“Indeed. Kind of a pity she didn’t want to play. I wouldn’t have minded having her as a successor. But, survival of the fittest, I guess…”

“Who do ya think’s gonna win? Muki’s lookin’ pretty good so far, even if she did take down some narcoleptic gamer chick!”

“Ikusaba’s chances of winning are great, but she won’t be too happy when she tries to bring Naegi back. Of course, this could have been avoided if you’d let me explain it to her before we started the entire game.”

“Hey, what did ya want me to do? If I let you tell her the truth, then she wouldn’t have wanted to play! It’s like the old saying goes: ‘Lies are just friends you haven’t met yet’!”

“What kind of a saying is that? It sounds like something you made up on the spot.” Kamukura rolled his eyes at Junko’s antics, switching off the screen. “What are your bets on Ishimaru? He doesn’t seem all too willing yet.”

“Don’t worry, Izuru! It’ll take him a while, but he’ll cave! And when he does, you’ll have your little immortality heir pretty soon! Ooh, it’s always the more innocent that are the most fun to break~!”

Kamukura turned the screen on one last time, this time viewing Ishimaru in his bedroom, conflict and guilt deep in his eyes as he did yet another studying session for upcoming assignments. He then switched to Mukuro, who was walking towards the girls’ bathhouse with a somber aura emitting from her eyes. After seeing both Diary Holders, Kamukura turned the screen off and sent it away.

“I wonder what Fifth and Sixth’s little alliance will lead to,” Kamukura pondered, skimming fingers through his flowing black hair while Junko did her own thing. “It seems to be getting pretty interesting…”


	8. Day 7: Fixing Up A Better Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> Gamekrazy306: Yeah, tbh, I feel horrible about offing her in the story. It said in canon, she never wanted to kill someone, so I didn't have a choice but to stay true to that.
> 
> Zeke: Sorry about that. As you said, it's hard to go against Chiaki bc she's a cinnamon roll. But, you gotta remember that no one has a choice in the Survival Game, and Mukuro's only killing her opponents for a specific reason (begins with an "N", ends with an "-aegi"). Plus, Muki has to mask her disgust at the whole SG by pretending not to care and sticking to what she *has* to do. Lastly, don't worry! My own wife (Mukuro) will come around soon.

That night, Ishimaru found himself in Kamukura’s Realm, as indicated by the grand ivory throne in a half-dome of stone. He marched right up to the God in his throne with furrowed black brows, ready to give him a piece of his mind.

“Kamukura-kun!” Ishimaru yelled from the bottom, “We need to talk!”

Solid red eyes of the God looked right down at Ishimaru, eyelids contracting slightly in a hazy glare. Cheek resting against his fist, he turned to face Ishimaru with crossed legs sitting lazily in the throne’s seat.

“What is it this time, Ishimaru?” Kamukura wondered. “Out of all the Diary Holders, you’ve been the most bothersome.”

“I refuse to partake in this Survival Game any longer! I hereby forfeit!”

“You can’t do that, nimrod. When I said the Game is mandatory, I meant no one can just up and quit. No exceptions.”

“I do not care! I refuse to be a part of something where innocent lives are taken for a selfish goal! Take me out of the game this instant!”

“There are only two ways to get out free: Either kill off your opponents and take my throne, or get yourself killed and be eliminated.” Kamukura turned his giant body and faced Ishimaru completely, raising a hand halfway. “But, since you obviously don’t have it in you to do the former…”

Out of nowhere, Ishimaru felt his body become tighter and tighter, almost to the point where it felt as though all the air was leaving his body. Speaking of his body, Ishimaru’s form was starting to implode and twist into absolute nothingness. Gasping for the life all around him, he begged and pleaded for Kamukura to stop, the deity only ceasing when Ishimaru truly looked sorry in his tearful eyes. Ishimaru’s form returned to normal, leaving the 16-year old coughing and gasping for more air until his lungs were satiated.

“Now, what have we learned?” Kamukura asked rhetorically.

“...I really don’t have a choice then,” Ishimaru sighed in utter disappointment. “I have to play the game whether I like it or not.”

“Is that all you came here to bug me for? If so, you got your answer, so you can leave me alone now.”

A great sadness possessed Ishimaru’s heart, his once-firm eyebrows creasing upwards as he was transported back to the mortal realm. This was his only chance to prevent himself from being subject to more horrors, and now it had just crashed and burned before his eyes. Fear and anxiety overcame him, the only thing Ishimaru found himself able to do was lie on his bed in utter darkness with a feeling not too different from an overwhelming nausea, only nothing would come up and bring him relief.

* * *

 The following day during the last class, a somewhat weary Ishimaru had just finished writing up an important essay on the history and legend of Tanabata, which he looked over carefully before turning into his teacher. He ignored the glares received from the anonymous students around him, who likely resented him for being the “genius” he wasn’t. At this point, Ishimaru couldn’t have cared less aside from his disgust at the word that had been thrown at him in the past.

When class finally ended, Ishimaru was able to gather his things and leave with no interruptions. But the moment he walked out, he jumped and yelped with astonishment when Mukuro was right in front of him. Composing himself, Ishimaru put himself in a more professional position at the sudden appearance of the SHSL Soldier before him.

“Good afternoon, Ikusaba-kun,” Ishimaru greeted simply. “Is there a problem?”

“I’m merely sticking around in case there are any Diary Holders nearby,” Mukuro answered.

“Ikusaba-kun, perhaps it’s best of you give this whole Survival Game a rest. Or was taking Nanami-kun's life yesterday not satisfying enough for you?”

“Sixth, this isn’t something you can just ‘give a rest’. It’s a matter of life or death, in case you haven’t realized that by now.”

“Trust me, I have. But frankly, I’m choosing not to stress myself out with that at the moment. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some important assignments to get done.”

Without letting Mukuro say anything else, Ishimaru continued on his merry way. Rather than going to his room to study, Ishimaru instead went to the school library for a nice change. He passed approached the arrogant Togami to try and be friendly. But the Heir only looked up at Ishimaru for a split second before peering his glasses-covered eyes back into his book.

"Can I help you, you insolent eyesore?" Togami asked rudely. "You're already wasting my time by being near me."

"No, nothing, Togami-kun," Ishimaru responded. "I just wanted to make a proper greeting is all!"

"If you can even consider the rubbish coming out of your mouth 'proper'. Now, get out of my sight already. I have better things to do than listen to you run your mouth outside of class too."

Ishimaru nodded and walked off, not all too bothered by Togami's daily rude remarks. He sat down at one of the study desks, pulled out a sharp pencil, and got to work on one of his assignments from class.

* * *

 Meanwhile in the city, Mondo was hauling burned and destroyed pieces of scrap metal that _used_ to be his beloved Kawasaki. He hadn't seen what transpired beforehand coming. One moment, he was speeding through the city like the free wind, and the next thing he knew, a wall cut his joy short by being the thing he crashed the motorcycle into.

"Great, couldn't have picked a better time ta wreck my hog..." Mondo scoffed with disdain. "There's gotta be someone around here who can fix my Kawasaki."

Mondo dragged the wrecked Kawasaki along the sidelines, looking all over for a place that could help him. Building after building, business after business, and the Gang Leader couldn't find a single helpful one. He started to trudge past another house when a young teen with wild magenta hair separated by a bandana tied around his forehead not too much older than him approached him covered in oil and sludge. The stained yellow jumpsuit had also fallen to his waist, exposing a dirty white tank top around his lanky arms.

"Hey, you look like you could use some help with yer ride!" the guy suggested, shark-like teeth visible in his smile.

“Judgin’ by the getup and the fact that you smell like a broken engine, yer some kinda mechanic?” Mondo guessed with a raised eyebrow.

“You’d bet! I’m the best in town! The name’s Kazuichi Souda, nice to meet ya!”

“Yeah, nice ta meet ya, Souda. I’m Mondo Oowada, the SHSL Gang Leader.”

“Wait, the Mondo Oowada?” Souda wondered, surprised. “Ain’t you the g-guy who leads that infamous biker gang around the country or something?”

“You fuckin’ know it! Yer talkin’ to the leader of the Crazy Diamonds himself!” Mondo answered, suddenly proud and boastful as he pointed a thumb towards himself with a grin.

Although very much intimidated by his potential customer, Souda shakily handed Mondo a business card, which was of the Mechanic’s family bike shop. At first, Mondo looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but ceased his skeptical expression when Souda assured the Gang Leader he could fix his bike in a jiffy. To support his claim, he led Mondo to the garage-like building situated not too far from the house, where the Mechanic had just finished repairing a car.

“So, how long’ll it take to fix my hog?” Mondo asked Souda.

“Well… yer Kawasaki looks to be in pre-tty bad shape,” Souda laughed sheepishly, inspecting the wreck from head to toe. “Did ya hit a wall or somethin’?”

“Yes. Are ya gonna fix it, or what?”

“Can do!” Souda confirmed, giving Mondo a thumbs up from beneath his thick black working gloves. “I’ll have yer Kawasaki fixed up for ya around…” Souda paused, taking out his mustard yellow phone with two black stripes running down the back of it from the screen. Opening it, he found just the answer he was looking for. “Tomorrow at around 3:20 work for ya?” Souda asked, closing his phone.

“Sounds good ta me!” Mondo confirmed, shaking Souda’s hand. “Fix ‘er up real nice fer me, ‘k?”

“You’ve got it, Oowada! Just come in with yer payments when it’s fixed.”

“How much do I owe, anyways?”

“Considering how much ya wrecked yer Kawasaki, I’d say about ¥30,000 should do it.”

“That much?! Ugh, fuckin’ fantastic. Fine, I’ll be back tomorrow with the money.”

Souda waved goodbye to his new client as he left the garage workshop. Once he was out of sight, Souda returned to the house half a block down from the working place after locking the latter up with the Kawasaki. From his coveralls pocket, Souda took out a key and twisted back and forth in the keyhole, pulling out out and opening the door when the lock was undone. Flipping on the light switch, Souda pulled his yellow coveralls up, pushing both arms through the sleeves and zipping the uniform up halfway.

He scanned the living room until he found the cold fireplace housing aging logs of wood, looking atop its shelf and finding an urn labelled “What’s Left Of Pop”.

“Ain’t that somethin’, old man?” Souda asked the urn, picking it up and smirking at it. “I just made us a great sale today. Shame yer no longer here ta top that, wonder what you’d think. Hell, knowin’ you, you’d prolly get jealous ‘a me and whack me. Nothin’ new, anyways.”

Souda put the urn back where it came from, horrifying thoughts and memories crossing his mind. He looked at the phone he’d taken from his pocket, calming down somewhat at the inside of it. A worried frown shifted into a toothy smirk of confidence, laughter emitting from the Mechanic’s lungs that increased in not only volume, but intensity as well.

“Pretty soon, no one’s gonna have the _balls_ to disrespect me!” Souda cackled to no one in particular. “This world’s gonna be my greatest fix ever once I’m through with it!”

Just then, Souda felt a low vibration in the hand his phone was in. Looking at his text messages, he saw an important one that made his eyes go wide and take a peek at the time. Putting the phone away in his pocket, Souda rushed out the door and locked everything up.

 _“Better hurry home!”_ Souda thought, _“Can’t keep Mum waiting again!”_

* * *

 Back at Hope’s Peak, the time progressed to 5:00 in the afternoon. The sun threatened to set beyond the horizon and make way for the new dusk while Ishimaru hurried off to the second floor with a pair of thin swimming trunks and a towel. Down the hall, he made it to the pool room and waved to Asahina to signify he’d made it.

“Go get changed so we can start our race!” Asahina told Ishimaru, who went inside the boys’ changing rooms.

Ishimaru removed his usual clean uniform and all the works, leaving his body completely bare until he pulled the tight black swimming trunks up and covered his privates. He made sure his Friendship Diary was safe in his pocket before locking all of his clothes up tight in one of the lockers and headed out to the pool. Ishimaru did a few stretches beside Asahina for a good minute or two before being handed a pair of swimming goggles by the SHSL Swimmer herself.

“So, what kind of stroke do you swim, Ishimaru?” Asahina asked, “I’m more of a freestyle girl myself!”

“I too prefer the front crawl,” Ishimaru admitted. “But sometimes, I enjoy doing butterfly as well. Shall we begin?”

“Yep! Prepare to eat my dust!”

Ishimaru strapped a pair of swimming goggles on his eyes, adjusting them so they wouldn’t fall off during the race. Alongside Asahina, he positioned himself at the marker and awaited the signal. Asahina counted down with an “On your marks, get set…” before shouting the word “go” loud and proud. Not even a second after, both took a dive into the pool and began their race.

Right arm followed by left arm, both parties used every ounce of willful limbs to carry them throughout the pool. Chlorine-infused water rushed past their ears in a muffled torrent, Asahina taking the lead as she controlled her breath with each stride through the water. Ishimaru kept forcing himself forward, trying his best to keep up with his opponent after the turn to the finish line.

 _"How does she do it?"_ Ishimaru thought, slightly behind the faster Asahina. _"Such persistence and strength! Asahina-kun is so powerful in the water! She must have trained for ages to acquire such skill!"_

The slab of pool concrete ahead, Ishimaru at last made hand contact with his goal. But alas, he saw he'd only touched it seconds after Asahina claimed her victory. Asahina cheered for herself with joy, splashing about in her natural element. After, she saw Ishimaru was pretty disappointed at his defeat in the neighboring lane.

"Ishimaru!" Asahina called, raising her hand to hint at a high-five. “Great work out there!”

"A job well done for you as well, Asahina-kun!" Ishimaru commended, slapping his palm against Asahina's. "But should I challenge you again, I'll be sure to come out victorious!"

"We'll see about that. Just remember one little tip for next time: Once you're in the water, never stop moving for a second! Because if you do, it will grab you and that'll be the end for sure!"

Ishimaru hadn't a clue what Asahina meant exactly, but he nodded as to say "Note taken". He pushed himself free from the pool and returned Asahina's spare goggles to her before hitting the showers and expelling any chlorine from his skin.

Once clean, Ishimaru dried himself off with a fresh towel and changed into his day clothes. Now that he was clean, dry, and dressed, Ishimaru made sure his Diary was with him and left. On his way out, he glimpsed at Aoi peeking at her iPod and shouting out with glee. Thinking nothing of it, he left the pool room in favor of his own to take care of some important things on his agenda.

Ishimaru felt utterly relieved as he began working on yet another assignment, a smile crossing his firm lips. Because at least now, he got to spend the day doing normal things instead of stressing over his potentially endangered fate. No Diary Holders, no Mukuro exposing him to a dangerous environment, nothing. Just one full day of getting to tackle his promised plans. True, he knew that soon, there would come a time where he'd have to jump back into the dreadful Survival Game again. But for then, he stayed strong and kept a firm nerve instead of thinking about it too much.


	9. Day 8: Memories Of The Ninth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses (are... good!):
> 
> QwertysHuman: I can neither deny nor confirm any Diary Holders, but it doesn't matter one bit who's "innocent" or not. I will say this right now: Nanami is the ONLY one who didn't want to become God or play the Survival Game. So that means, all of the other Diary Holders (bar Taka, but he's the protag so who cares) are willing to participate and WILL try to kill their opponents to win. Also yeah, only thirteen total have Diaries (I know it's twelve in the series, but 13's my lucky number).
> 
> Zeke: This chapter will answer your question, but I'll answer your next: Izuru/Hinata, Junko, and Mukuro are all from the past and original SG, so they retain their respective titles of "First", "Second", and "Fifth" respectively here bc that's what they were in the first game. Also, because Kamukura and Junko started a new Game, only Mukuro is playing the new SG from the original (still as "Fifth"). So in total, there are 13 Diary Holders, but only 11 actually killing/playing. Also, Izuru's the "Deus" of this story with Junko as his "Murmur" because I didn't wanna include characters from MN.

Sitting in his kitchen eating breakfast at 10:14 that warm Thursday morning, Souda had quite a bit on his mind. His mother gathered her own morning meal of ham, eggs, veggies, and coffee, looking at her son worriedly as his mind drifted into space.

"Kazuichi-kun, what's wrong?" she asked, snapping her child out of his stupor. "You hardly touched anything on your plate."

"Oh, nothin'," Souda insisted. "There's just been a lot on my mind since... y'know."

"Ah, that's right," Souda's mother's voice was noticeably grim. "I understand how... conflicted you must feel. He was in no way a good man, but it's still not good to say ill of the dead."

"True. But, it's weird that we don't have ta worry about every li'l word we say or anything we do anymore."

"Also true. Sometimes it still feels like I have to watch what I say. But then I remember those days are over." Gray eyes blinked wearily as the woman got up from her seat and hugged Souda tenderly. "At least I can finally see my little man again..."

"Good ta be with ya again too, Mum," Souda sighed, pink eyes of melancholy falling slightly as the embrace was reciprocated.

After mother and son released each other from the gentle hug, they resumed eating their morning meal. When Souda was just about finished, he looked at the time on the wall clock and got up from his seat. Placing his plate in the sink with the cup he'd drank from, Souda bid his mother farewell.

"I've got some pretty big repairs ta do in the shop today," Souda told her.

"Well, try not to stay there too late, Kazuichi-kun," his mother warned. “Be back in time for dinner, okay?”

“Ya have my word! See you tonight, Mum!”

Souda quickly went out the door and shut it behind him. He made his way to the closest bus stop and sat on the bench to await his transport. As the Mechanic sat and sat, he pulled his phone out and looked at an entry reading “13:00: The rear shock in Oowada’s Kawasaki took a lot of damage from the crash, plus the beam frame’s completely wrecked. Piece ‘a cake, but it’s gonna take me a good two hours ta patch ‘em up”.

Souda let out a sigh of discontent and conflict. The entry itself was harmless, but it was the type of entry that brought such gloom to his heart. Looking up at the mostly cloudless sky, he started to reflect on what happened all the way up to where he was now.

* * *

  _For as long as he could remember, Souda's life could be described with a single word:_

_Unfortunate._

_As a matter of fact, the Mechanic recalled enduring quite a lot of misfortune during middle school. To his classmates, he wasn’t just some poor little kid with glasses over his dolphin gray eyes, short midnight black hair, and a skittishly timid nature. No, to them, he was a weak little pawn ready to be used and thrown away right after. Yes, he once had someone to call "friend", but even they turned out to not be above the others. All in all, Souda severed ties with them for good, tired of being used._

_"Get up and fight, wuss!" one horrible kid would say, kicking the injured Souda on the ground. "Be a man and fight the hell back!"_

_Souda could do nothing to defend himself, only able to lay on the floor as tears leaked past his cracked glasses. He remembered the kid leaving a bolt of saliva on his already tear-stained face, forcing Souda to drag himself to the nurse yet again._

_Another gruesome time, Souda had been tinkering idly with a school project. Every drop of joy that went into it faded from existence when two other classmates ripped it away from him, resisting his futile attempts to reclaim it._

_"Aww, what's wrong, Souda? Don't you want your dinky little contraption back?" one bully taunted._

_"Obviously! G-Give it back, Kentarō!" Souda demanded._

_"Hmm, I dunno. Doesn't look like you really care about it. Shame, looks like you worked really hard on it!"_

_"I do, and I did! Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you guys?!"_

_"What do you think, Kyōsuke? You think he really wants this piece of trash back?"_

_"Who would? If you ask me, there's only one thing to do with it. Don't you?"_

_"Oh, totally!"_

_Before Souda even had time to react, the bully holding the metal project held it high in the air and slammed it into the ground. As the project was rendered to nothing but a useless pile of parts, Souda knelt to the ground and tried scrambling the remains together. The bullies left cackling at Souda's expense, while the young Souda himself choked out messy sobs of heartbreak._

_It wasn't just abuse and neglect he sustained from his classmates. Life for Souda was arguably worse at the place he was forced to call "home".  His house was where Souda received the most injury from his greatest and long-term bully: His father._

_"You did what?!" Souda's father roared one day, approaching his son with a hand as angry as his expression._

_"D-Dad, I'm sorry!" Souda whimpered, "I just couldn't go on the t-trip--"_

**_WHACK!_ **

_The side of his father's fist made contact with Souda's face, knocking the glasses right off of him. Souda tried explaining to his dad that he skipped the trip for "safety reasons" regarding how he's treated. Unfortunately for the then-14-year old Mechanic, this only threw gasoline into the flames that were his father's fury._

_"Th-They're horrible to me, Pop..." Souda stuttered, fearful tears filling his gray eyes._

_"That ain't no excuse to waste money, you insensitive brat!" his father roared, grabbing his son by the black gakuran collar and tossing him to the ground like garbage. "'Oh, wah wah! No one at school likes me! I'm too fucking weak to be a man and stand up for myself!'" he mocked his son in a derisively whiny voice, pretending to wipe away invisible tears before turning to Souda again. “Why the hell did I get stuck with some worthless little wimp for a son?! You should have turned out better!”_

_“I-I… But I--”_

_“Shut it! Now, get your ass upstairs to your room! You can come down when you learn to toughen up and actually be considerate of your parents!”_

_Souda shakily pushed himself up, only bolting from the ground and upstairs the second his father punched the wall and shouted at him some more. Crawling up the stairs, he heard his cruel patriarch yell how he could “forget about dinner tonight” as punishment. Souda quickly shut and locked the door to his room upstairs, sitting against the door and hugging his knees, repeating soothing words to himself to try and calm his anxious nerves. No matter how many words he recited quietly, it wouldn’t stop the tears from falling past his bruised cheeks and onto his scraped limbs._

_On a more positive side, Souda recalled how his mother would usually come into his room to comfort him when her abusive spouse was asleep for the night. After the little incident with the trip, she’d brought him a plate of veggies and meat so her only child wouldn’t have to sleep hungry, bringing a melancholic smile to his bony face as he devoured it whole. Although, whenever his mother did come into the room, Souda would always see she had bruises, cuts, wounds, and memories of unkind and often vulgar shouts from the exact same man who injured him daily. Unlike him, however, she endured it with a strong face for her son’s sake._

_But the day after he turned fifteen, Souda would be cut off from his only source of light._

_He may not have been an adult when it happened, but the Mechanic was more than old enough to know what the words “custody of the kid” meant syllable by syllable. The day his parents split for good, Souda was forced to watch his mother pack her things and leave after she said her last heartbroken goodbye to him. He remembered watching her car pull out of the driveway and stroll off elsewhere from the window, tears streaming down his now-pink orbs._

_Even after he altered his entire appearance and personality to mitigate the bullying (which didn’t quite work as expected) before Hope’s Peak had accepted him as the “Super High School Level Mechanic”, those days where Souda hadn’t a choice but to return to the lair of his biggest tormentor were absolute hell. Daily and night, his father would punish and strike him for even the smallest of mistakes. And whenever he did get a moment’s peace, Souda longed for the day his streak of abuse and disrespect would come to an end._

_Little did he know, he would get his wish sometime after turning seventeen years old._

* * *

 Souda had lost track of the time, but when he’d focused again, the bus stopped right near the workshop and former house of his. He immediately got off the bus and ran to the correct place, first deciding to take another visit inside of his abandoned ex-home. He looked at his phone and remembered he had a good four hours until the prediction’s estimated fixing time, so he wasn’t going to be in there for too long.

The Mechanic returned to the living room he once shared with his family and looked back at the urn right atop the unused fireplace. Removing the lid before peeking inside, Souda grimly turned his nose up in disgust at the sight of his father’s ashes, looking how they’d appeared since the previous week. Putting the lid back and setting the urn down on the table, Souda took his yellow and black cell phone out from his jumpsuit. Staring at the entries his phone gave him, Souda creased his eyes further downward as recent memories came flashing in his mind after meeting the silhouettes of others like him.

"To think this all started because of him..." Souda uttered to himself, his mind pulling up a vision of the boy behind everything.

* * *

  _“Me? Kill someone?!” he remembered gasping at the giant Kamukura, who sat before him in his equally large throne in the violet-lit second dimension. “Nah… nah, that ain’t right! I thought it was some kinda joke when you told me that the first time!”_

_“Just like how you believed I was your imaginary friend or something?” Kamukura wondered with hazy eyes. “Well, I’m obviously not a thing you dreamed up, so I’m clearly not joking about the Survival Game’s rules.”_

_“B-But, why me? Ya could’ve gotten some other guy ta do it! So, why was I one of the unlucky ones?!”_

_“You seemed the most… interesting, even for a second.” Kamukura changed into a blur of darkness as he made himself closer to Souda’s size and stood before him in his dark tattered cloak. “From what I’ve seen of you, you don’t seem like the happiest person in the world. So, don’t you wanna change the way your life is or something?”_

_“Well, yeah, but how the hell’s killin’ people gonna do that? Y’know, other than gettin’ me put in jail.”_

_“Remember that little ‘modification’ I did to your phone? Your Diary has the power to predict things that occur within ten minutes, but they’re situations you can fix at the drop of a hat. If you follow those predictions without changing the future unless necessary, then there’s nothing you can’t get away with. After all, the oh-so talented ex-SHSL Mechanic can fix anything… can’t he?”_

_Kamukura’s disgust at so much as saying the word “talent” went ignored by Souda, who processed the thought further until coming to a solid conclusion. The SHSL Mechanic looked at his Future Diary, glaring at several traumatic memories of abuse, neglect, and cruelty as something in his mind snapped like a twig. For the first time, Souda’s face twisted into a grin that was of pure malice and revenge, dark thoughts pervading his heart and mind._

_“You look ready for the world,” Kamukura laughed briefly, a vague smile teasing his lips before falling flat again. “And in case you back out, don’t forget what you went through. With that Diary, no one will ever mistreat you again… Ninth.”_

_“Ya got that right…” Souda chuckled darkly. “Just you wait, Kamukura. I’m gonna off all ‘a those bastards and be next in line to succeed ya! Soon, everyone’ll finally respect me when they call me their God!”_

_“Glad to hear it. Don’t let anyone stand in your way; do whatever it takes to get to the top.”_

_Shortly after, Souda found himself back in the living room of his house. He looked at the back of his phone and saw the time was 5:49 in the evening. When his phone made yet another familiar loud static, Souda opened it and saw some new entries about to occur every ten minutes. One particular entry said “17:50: Pop comes burstin’ through the door lookin’ extremely pissed at me as usual. He started attacking me again, but I can at least run from him until I think of somethin’.” A minute later, Souda’s father nearly flung the door open, looking at his son with livid and bloodshot eyes._

_“YOU HEARD ME KNOCKIN’, BRAT!” his father screamed, running up to his son and slugging him in the face with his full fist. “DON’T IGNORE ME WHEN I WANNA COME IN MY GODDAMN HOUSE!”_

_“Get away from me!” Souda wailed, hiding his phone in his coveralls pocket and running around the house._

_“Oh no, you’re not goin’ anywhere, Kazuichi! You’re gonna get it now!”_

_As his son ran away from his wrath, the monstrous father rummaged through furniture and objects to reach his target, pounding the wall occasionally in hopes of frightening Souda so he’d learn some kind of lesson. Without looking back at the messy living room behind him, Souda panicked and ran right into the bathroom attached to the kitchen, locking the door tight and hugging his knees as he leaned against the wood. When his father came pounding on the door until it started to chip away, Souda began tearfully reciting calming words to himself. But at that moment… he stopped and stared straight ahead with a dark expression as he was overcome with a new feeling._

**_Vengeance._ **

_“I'm sick and tired of running away…” Souda growled to himself, standing up at the door and facing it with creasing eyes. “It’s time I finally do something about this bastard once and for all!”_

_Unlocking the door, Souda let his father fling it open. But when the adult man tried making a violent grab for him, Souda was lucky enough to dodge the grab and head back into the kitchen. As his father started to charge at him again, Souda quickly grabbed the largest knife from the wall and pointed it at the savage man while closing his eyes. All of a sudden, screams from his father went deathly silent, replaced only by the sound of suffocating gasps. Souda opened his eyes and saw he’d thrust the knife deep into where he estimated his father’s lungs to be._

_A sight that was initially terrifying and sickening quickly turned utterly satisfying by the snapped Mechanic, who ripped the knife from his bleeding paternal parent’s chest before giving him a deep stab to the stomach. Again did he yank the knife blade from the failing body before digging it deep into the abdomen once more, repeating such a process while the murderous son’s cackles increased in volume while depleting in stability. When he stopped, his deceased father’s final expression was now frozen in horror forever, his living and blood-stained son catching a breath from laughing at the new victory._

_“‘18:00: Pop kicked the bucket after kept stabbin’ him. All I gotta do is wait until nightfall to get rid of ‘im for good.’,” Souda read from his Diary. “Correction Diary, don’t fail me now, got it?”_

_To await the necessary time of day, Souda went into the basement and gathered four things: A large, yet very old laundry bag, a mop, a plastic red cleaning bucket, and some lemon-scented mopping formula. He stuffed his father’s corpse into the laundry bag and sealing it tight, moving it to the bathroom and placing it right inside the bathtub as a trail of blood was left behind. While the blood from the bag drained in the tub, Souda poured some water into the bucket before adding the mopping formula. He dipped the mop inside and proceeded to mop up the blood all the way through._

_Souda remembered how, when nighttime at last fell, he had to sneak the laundry bag containing his father’s corpse out back wearing a pair of rubber gloves until he reached the back door of what was now Souda’s personal workshop. He went in by inserting a key into the lock of the back door and activating the knob’s pin tumblers before pushing the door open. Opening the bag, he laid his father’s lifeless body atop a work bench and took out a buzzsaw, starting first by severing pumpless arteries and veins in his father’s arms until they separated from the torso. Souda callously repeated the process to separate the corpse into an assortment of hands, arms, a head, a pair of legs, and two transverse halves of a torso. Putting the blood soaked parts back into the bag, Souda smirked to himself as he dragged the laundry bag to the incinerator out back. Dumping the bag full of parts inside of the furnace, he shut the door and activated the machine, watching every last piece of evidence burn with a satisfied smile of madness._

_“Now you’ll never bother us again, Pops…” he laughed, unzipping the top half of his blood-stained yellow coveralls until it fell to his scrawny waist. Souda then looked at his Correction Diary, which was currently closed and showing the time. “And it won’t just be you I get back at. When I’m God, anyone who’s ever messed with me is gonna pay the price! That’s right, I’ll fix ‘em up reeeal good! **I’ll fix this whole world up just the way I'd like it!** ”_

* * *

 While the blowtorch in his hand spit scorching heat at the mending part of the Kawasaki, Souda’s lips separated into a malicious grin from his recent memory, shark-like teeth visible and jagged. He was finally finished with the torch and removed the protective mask from his face, exchanging the tools for a drill and phillips bit to go with it, drilling a few more bolts together in the Kawasaki. Looking at his Correction Diary, the prediction that he’d have it fixed by 3:20 as he promised Mondo was still there.

“I’m gonna have this baby fixed up like it was never broken,” Souda laughed to himself. “After all, I’m the Mechanic who can fix his way outta anything!”

* * *

 At Hope’s Peak after classes had finished, Ishimaru looked at his Friendship Diary. Eyebrows furrowed, he looked at a prediction that had come true hours ago. It read "12:12: Kyoudai deliberately didn't show up for class. Well, guess who just got another week of detention?". He was so disappointed (yet in no way surprised) in his friend that he didn't seem to care that Mukuro once again approached him because of their alliance.

"Does your Diary have bleak news?" Mukuro asked.

"There's nothing 'new' about Kyoudai getting detention, Ikusaba-kun," Ishimaru sighed. Suddenly, the Hall Monitor received a text on his phone, indicated by the vibration in his palm until he opened the phone and read it. "...Great. Now he wants me to pick up his 'hog' because I'm not the one in charge of detentions today."

"Oowada-kun has a pet pig? Funny, I always saw him more as a dog person."

"No, that's what Mondo calls his Kawasaki for some strange reason. I might as well go retrieve it for him. I'll never hear the end of it if I don't."

"I shall accompany you. We might find other Diary Holders out there."

"Right, so you can remorselessly slaughter them as if they were some sort of animal. That's exactly what I need today!" Ishimaru exclaimed with obvious sarcasm.

"Fourth was just a one-time thing. I can assure you, the others will be more than willing to participate and kill us. That's why I'm coming with you to keep you out of trouble."

"Very well then... But you make it sound as if I'm some sort of child in need of babysitting."

"Considering these past few battles, you might as well be."

Closing his phone and ignoring Mukuro's bluntly-said statement, Ishimaru memorized the address Mondo sent for the shop he dropped his motorcycle off at. They walked all the way to the Detention Room to collect the fee from Mondo, whom they just caught at the doorway in a huffy mood. With nothing but the clothes on their backs and Future Diaries in their pockets, Ishimaru and Mukuro set off to claim the repaired Kawasaki in downtown Osaka.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Godly Alignment (bc the Diary name was revealed): Souda Kazuichi = Hephaestus/Vulcan (obvious reasons aside, both were abused by one of their parents and, in this story's context, took a stand against them. And regarding SDR2 canon, both pine for a beautiful woman who wants nothing to do with them). 
> 
> The GA's are pretty obvious for this story, so if you think a Diary Holder aligns with a certain Greek God, you're most likely right.


	10. Day 8 Part 2: Dining With The Enemy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> QwertysHuman: (Again, great person or bad doesn't matter; this is a game of literal life or death...) What about Artemis? She's awesome! Also, I'm pretty sure Hephaestus had every reason in the book to be mad at Hera (who chucked him off of Greece's highest mountain) and Aphrodite (who kept cheating on him with Ares). If anything, Heph's one of the nicest Olympians out there. Also, if your question contains spoilers for what I have planned for the story, I can't answer them.
> 
> Zeke: (Congrats!) I honestly have nothing but love for Souda, the only exception being when he's drooling over Sonia bc then I get pretty mad. Also, thanks! It's great to know I did a good job on something in this story.
> 
> Gamekrazy306: Who wouldn't feel bad for Souda? Also, you'll get your answer in this chapter~ ♥

It didn't take long for them to get there by bus, so the day was still young when they'd stopped near the workshop. Mukuro asked Ishimaru if this was the right street, to which he nodded and repeated the matching address from memory.

Mukuro knocked on the door to the workshop, soon greeted by the startled Kazuichi Souda, who quickly composed himself and appeared more confident in front of the fierce Soldier and Hall Monitor.

"H-Hey there!" Souda greeted with a wave. "What can I do for ya?"

"Salutations," Mukuro greeted in a civil manner. "My name is Mukuro Ikusaba, and this is Kiyotaka Ishimaru. He's my... associate."

"Sorry, it's just her odd way of saying 'friend' is all!" Ishimaru chuckled, shaking Souda's hand.

"But we're not friends, nor do I wish to be as such," Mukuro insisted icily. "I'm practically your bodyguard, Si-- I mean, Ishimaru-kun."

"Uhh, the name's Souda. Kazuichi Souda!" Souda greeted after hesitating. "Pleasure ta meet ya both!"

"A pleasure to meet you too, Souda-kun!" Ishimaru greeted back. "Oh, right! We're here to pick up the Kawasaki for my friend, Mondo Oowada."

"You're friends with Oowada? How come he couldn't come get his hog like he promised?"

"I gave him detention for cutting class. Education always comes first no matter what!"

"Argh, fair enough. That'll be ¥30,000."

Ishimaru took the borrowed hefty fee from his pocket, handing it to the willing Souda. Just then, Ishimaru's Diary loudly signaled a new future for him regarding his comrades, startling him and Souda alike. However, Souda began glaring at Ishimaru with dulling eyes, recognizing that sound all too well.

"Y'know, that's a pretty... interestin' text tone ya got there, Ishimaru," Souda noted.

"If by 'interesting' you mean to say 'obnoxious', then yes, it is," Ishimaru groused, reading the prediction to himself before gasping quietly in surprise.

"What does it say? Have you reached a Dead End?" Mukuro whispered.

"No, but it does say Kyoudai will be disappointed in the condition he gets his bike back in. Also, it says we’re the ones who were driving the Kawasaki to get away from… Ninth?”

“There’s another Diary Holder very close by then. I have a feeling who Ninth is, but we’d better stick around a little longer just to be sure. In the meantime, be prepared for _anything_.”

“Erm, yes, ma’am!” Ishimaru confirmed, still keeping his voice low.

“Everythin’ alright over there?” Souda asked, walking up to Ishimaru and Mukuro.

“We’re alright, Souda-kun,” Mukuro insisted. “But, we really ought to be going now. Can’t keep Oowada-kun waiting--”

“What? Oh come on, you just got here! Tell you what, why don’t I treat you guys for a bit, then you can go?”

“Really, we must be going!” Ishimaru insisted, now somewhat wary about Souda.

“No no, I insist! It’s the least I could do for you two after ya had to come all this way! C’mon, just for a little?”

Ishimaru and Mukuro both pondered, looking at Souda’s slightly sweaty face as he forced a toothy smile. They both looked at each other and nodded, Mukuro deciding to answer Souda with their choice.

"We accept your offer," Mukuro said.

"Great! I'll whip up some lunch for ya! My treat," Souda announced.

"You might want to wash up first, Souda-kun," Ishimaru suggested. "Food preparation requires clean hands, you know!"

Nodding, Souda walked outside with Ishimaru and Mukuro following carefully. Shutting the garage door, Souda guided his guests to his old house after unlocking the front. He told them to wash up in the downstairs bathroom while he cleaned himself up in the upstairs one.

Souda removed his oil-stained coveralls, dirty tank top, bandana forehead wrap, and tri-color boxers of pink, yellow, and cyan. Now, his lanky body was completely bare as he turned the hot shower on and stepped inside. As the heated drops of clear liquid ran down his skin, smaller muscles poking out from underneath his arms, Souda grinned to himself as he rubbed soapy water over his flesh.

 _"So, my first two victims decided to make a little pit stop at my own shop!"_ Souda laughed in his mind. _"A little sooner than I expected, but why waste a good chance ta slaughter 'em? They'll be dead faster than they can say 'Dead End'!"_

The SHSL Mechanic rinsed the remaining suds off of his freshly cleaned body, shutting the pipes until only the steam caressed his sludge-less skin. Grabbing a towel, Souda wrapped the large bath cloth around his secretive area. Dragging a hand through damp magenta-dyed locks, Souda took the Correction Diary out of his coveralls' pants pocket and looked at a new prediction. The very words "15:40: Fifth and Sixth are sitting on the couch lookin’ suspicious 'a me. I’ll just butter them up by makin’ them a bowl of noodles to get their trust!” started giving him ideas.

“So, I dragged in Fifth and Sixth?” the bare Souda wondered, shutting the phone and taking everything he brought into the bathroom to his old bedroom. “Well, Sixth oughta be easy to kill, but I’d better be careful around Fifth. She gives me chills just by lookin’ at her…!”

Downstairs, Ishimaru and Mukuro were sitting formally in the living room with nothing on their feet but their socks, awaiting their host to come back from his shower. Both recalled what they saw in the bathroom, thrown off entirely by the pale red streak in the tub and wondering what it could have come from. Neither checked their Diaries because they weren’t of any use at the moment (Ishimaru’s because his friends weren’t around; Mukuro’s because hers only predicted an assortment of battle strategies at the last minute), so they had to wait until the right moment.

“Where’s Souda-kun?” Ishimaru wondered.

“He shouldn’t be long,” Mukuro said. “When he comes down, keep your guard up and eyes peeled for anything he might do.”

“Well, I hope you guys’re hungry!” Souda called, stepping downstairs in a cleaner white tank top and pair of yellow coveralls as a black beanie cap sat atop his messy head. “Just sit right there, and I’ll make lunch.”

In the kitchen, Souda prepared a teapot of water for the food he’d attempt to make for the two other teenagers in his living room. A regular cooking pot was prepared for the eggs he’d taken out of the fridge. He got out a total of three packs of dried ramen noodles from the cupboard and put them into three separate bowls. Souda gathered slices of ham and green veggies as the the cooking pot eventually reached its boiling point, which signalled for Souda to place three eggs into it and cover until further notice.

The two guests in the living room didn’t have to wait for too long until Souda announced the food was ready. Ishimaru and Mukuro walked into the kitchen and politely took a seat at the circular wooden dinner table. Souda set three pairs of chopsticks and the three bowls down in front of him and his guests before uncovering them and revealing delicious and steaming helping of ramen noodle soup. In each bowl, a slice of ham was beside chopped up green veggies and two slices of hard-boiled eggs.

“Itadakimasu!” Souda proclaimed, separating his chopsticks and preparing to dig in. Before he would, he looked up at his guests, who hadn't touched their food. "Well? Ain't ya gonna dig in?"

Ishimaru looked ready to start eating, but before he could lift a few strands of noodle into his mouth, Mukuro used her chopsticks to strike his, causing him to drop the items as the food plopped back into the bowl. As Ishimaru gave her a stern look for her apparent lack of courtesy, Mukuro eyed her bowl like a hawk, not trusting a single morsel.

"Hello? Look, I know I ain't the best cook, but I can at least make ramen soup edible," Souda said humbly.

"Oh, my associate and I think it'd be better if the host started eating first," Mukuro lied. "After all, it's only fair to you for inviting us."

"Ikusaba-kun, what--" Ishimaru began until Mukuro leaned in towards his ear and whispered softly.

"If he doesn't eat it, then he obviously poisoned it to do us in. Be more mindful in the Survival Game; you never know when someone will slip in a 'secret ingredient' just for us."

Just then, Souda slurped a wad of ramen noodle soup into his mouth with a bit of ham. He chewed the mix with his mouth closed and swallowed, Ishimaru and Mukuro eyeing him owlishly for any after effects. A few seconds passed, and nothing happened except for Souda licking the soup water from his lips.

"It's tasty, y'know! Try it, I'm sure you'll like it!" Souda urged.

Ishimaru gave Mukuro a look that could take the place of a shrug, said the polite pre-dining word, and slurped up strands of ramen noodles. Mukuro sighed and followed suit, chewing on the noodles and egg slice and taking in the delicious taste. While they ate, Souda continued taking care of his food while grinning maliciously to himself.

 _"I only didn't put rat poison in the ramen so you two don't catch on right away,"_ Souda thought, giving his future victims a secretive look. _"Still, that Fifth seems a bunch smarter than that overly-trustin' Sixth. Better off him first so I don't die early."_

* * *

 After lunch, everyone cleaned up after themselves and put their empty bowls into the sink. Souda checked his Diary to find any new predictions. He found one that read "16:00: Sixth decides ta help me do the dishes, so he's standin' right next ta me. Fifth had to use the bathroom, so I'll just take her partner down carefully before she gets out.". Right on cue, Ishimaru joined Souda at the water-filled sink of suds, rinsing some of the dishes Souda had washed already. When the Mechanic scrubbed some more in the pile, Mukuro went into the close by bathroom, giving Souda the opportunity to strike with an evil grin.

"Oi, Ishimaru," Souda spoke.

"Yes, Souda-kun?" Ishimaru wondered, rinsing the last bowl from earlier.

"I just wanted to thank you and Ikusaba fer bein' awesome guests! It's not often I get company around my age."

"It's no trouble! We were just happy to visit. In fact, you have my gratitude for your genuine hospitality."

"No prob! By the way, I need you ta do somethin' else fer me. Now, listen very _veeeery_ closely, Ishimaru..."

Ishimaru leaned in towards Souda's face and awaited the news. But due to not heeding anything else, he could only gasp and struggle as Souda grabbed his head before shoving him under the tepid water. He unwillingly inhaled unwanted amounts of liquid, squirming and fighting to rise above the surface again. Souda however, started cackling loudly while shoving Ishimaru's head down deeper. Suddenly, the struggling Ishimaru unknowingly socked Souda right in the stomach, causing the Mechanic to draw back in pain and accidentally let go of the drowning Ishimaru. This allowed him to run up the stairs away from Souda drenched while coughing up water from his lungs.

"Augh, damn it all!" Souda coughed, holding his sore abdomen. As the toilet flushed from the bathroom, the Correction Diary in Souda's pocket sounded off another change in the future, so he flipped open to read it. "Well, Sixth may have run away, but he ain't getting away!"

Just then, Mukuro came right out of the bathroom completely freshened up, knife drawn openly as she charged at Souda, who quickly dodged it by ducking under. She attempted to strike him again, this time slashing his cheek when he moved away from the knife. Hiding his phone in his pocket, Souda ran up the stairs from his own attacker and took refuge in his bedroom, locking the door before Mukuro got too close.

The Soldier kept banging on the door, trying to break it down herself. However, it was locked far too tightly for that to be possible, even when she attempted it by ramming her body against the door. When she stopped, Souda leaned his ear in close to the door until he heard Mukuro’s footsteps taking her down the stairs. Smirking to himself, Souda knew he was safe for now and looked at his Correction Diary.

“‘16:20: Sixth is still hiding in the bathroom panicking. I might as well pay him a visit in there and bring Satsuki with me to finish the job and try going after Fifth.’,” Souda read to himself, closing the phone and putting it in his pocket. “Ah, Satsuki always did get the job done whenever I worked, so it’s perfect!” He went over to his drawer and pulled out a tool box, grabbing the largest and pointiest phillips screwdriver of them all. Flicking it, Souda let out a laugh as an evil grin stretched his lips and presented his sharpened teeth.

“I’d really hate ta get ya dirty because I had to use you ta kill someone,” Souda sighed, “but on the bright side, at least I’m closer ta bein’ God! C’mon, we’ve got a Sixth to kill!”

Closing the tool box and putting it back in his nightstand, Souda slowly pushed the door open and inspected the upstairs and down to make sure Mukuro wasn’t watching. Thankfully for Souda, the bathroom wasn’t directly in front of the stairs, so he was able to go inside without getting noticed by anyone except the panicking Ishimaru in the bathroom. From the minute his eyes made contact with Souda, the Hall Monitor tried making a run for it until Souda closed and locked the door while keeping the screwdriver hidden behind his back as he kept Ishimaru from exiting.

“Hey, you’re not still mad about what happened downstairs, are ya?” Souda wondered rhetorically, faking a smile for the time being.

“ _S-Still_ mad?! You tried to drown me!” Ishimaru yelled.

“Oi, if ya put it like that, then it does make me sound like some kinda bad guy, don’t it? Look, I’m willing ta say I’m… sorry for that. But only if you let it go. If ya do, then I won’t have ta do anythin’ else to ya.”

“Attempting to drown someone isn’t something you just let go! Especially not when you almost die at the hands of another potential Diary Holder!”

Souda blinked from Ishimaru’s correct assumption and sighed, taking out the yellow phone with two black stripes running down the back and opening it in front of Ishimaru, whose fear in the eyes was now more than blatant. He mockingly waved the screen and predictions in front of Ishimaru, his grin’s true intentions showing itself as Souda prevented Ishimaru from getting to the Diary.

“You like it? This little baby’s called the Correction Diary. It tells me only situations I can fix easily every ten minutes,” Souda purred chillingly, taking out the phillips screwdriver from behind his back as his eyes grew more manic and maddened. “And it belongs to me, the one and only Ninth!”

Immediately after speaking, Souda charged at Ishimaru in an attempt to dig the screwdriver through a vital point. But, the terrified Hall Monitor quickly moved away from it, not caring at all about the toiletries he’d knocked over from the dodge. As Souda once again made another murderous move, Ishimaru had to think fast unless he wanted to reach a Dead End for real. Right in the moment, he picked up the first thing his hand grabbed, a classic straight razor designed for shaving.

“Ooh, whaddya gonna do?” Souda mocked, “Gimme a clean shave?”

“That can be arranged!” Ishimaru shouted.

Ishimaru flipped open the razor and swung it out at Souda, leaving a deeper gash in his cheek than one would in a regular shave. In retaliation, Souda thrust the screwdriver deep into Ishimaru’s antecubital area, the Hall Monitor yelling in pain as he ripped the tool from the bleeding front of his elbow, only for Souda to take it right back. He grabbed Ishimaru tightly by the neck, watching him squirm and suffocate as the screwdriver was raised above him.

“This is it, Sixth,” Souda hissed with a malicious grin. “You’re gonna be my first step on the road to godhood! And when I’m immortal, everyone’ll have no choice but to worship and respect me! A-Anyone who tries anythin’ funny is gonna get what they deserve! Now, time to **die**!”

Before Souda could jab the screwdriver into a vital area of Ishimaru’s, both boys were knocked forward by a sudden axe to the door. The screwdriver fell right out of Souda’s hand and onto the bathroom floor as more axe swings hacked away at the door’s wood, soon making a big enough hole to reveal Mukuro was on the other side with the culprit weapon. She hacked away at the door a few more times until it was big enough to fit her arm through and undo the lock. Now that the door had been unlocked, Mukuro twisted the knob before flinging it open, ripping Souda off of Ishimaru and throwing the Mechanic down the stairs. As Souda let out grunts of pain as he made contact with each and every wooden step that struck against his body joints, Mukuro dropped the axe and tossed Ishimaru his pair of black boots she’d brought up for him, telling him to put them on as quickly as possible.

“Trust me, we won’t be here for long,” Mukuro insisted. “Get downstairs, but stay hidden or else Ninth will kill you.”

Ishimaru tied the bow knots on his boots tight, rushing downstairs with Mukuro as Souda regained enough strength to try and move after he saw that his Correction Diary was surprisingly still intact despite the fall. He read the prediction “16:40: Fifth attacks me with her knife and Future Diary. I may be a little sore, but I’ll still fight back with my own weapon!” and turned himself around towards the stairs.

When Ishimaru was right in front of him, he attempted to stand in order to start attacking again, but the fall from being knocked down the stairs unfortunately caused him so much pain that he was unable to properly stand, instead being forced to limp to move. But, Mukuro stopped Souda from getting to the fleeing Ishimaru by hopping into her previously discarded shoes and kicking him down again, giving Ishimaru just enough time so he could get out of sight.

“Just you and me, Ninth,” Mukuro said coldly, remaining emotionally distant in her voice all the same.

“I guess so,” Souda winced, pulling himself up and reaching for the screwdriver he discovered was no longer there. “Sh-Shit! I must’ve dropped it upstairs!”

“What? You’re without a weapon? Pity, I was hoping this easy victory would at least be fair. Oh well, I still have to kill you one way or another.”

Mukuro unsheathed her jagged knife from the thigh scabbard, raised it high, and quickly struck Souda with it in the side. It wasn’t quite a stab, but the wound was deep enough to be considered gash. Either way, it felt all the more painful to Souda, who gripped the injury and cried out in pain before forcing himself to quickly limp away from Mukuro.

Souda was lucky enough to make it back into the kitchen, reaching for the set of knives on the wall and grabbing a kitchen cleaver to fight the hostile Soldier back. Turning around, he saw Mukuro reading her Tactics Diary for predicted strategies as she went in for another strike with her knife, which he managed to block with the cleaver. Souda’s eyes folded downwards into crazed anger, taking a hack swing right at the Soldier to try and wound her while holding onto his Correction Diary for literal dear life. Although he didn’t wound her, he did get her to temporarily drop her blade and tried to make a reach for it. Looking at the Diary she owned, Mukuro saw a prediction saying “16:46: An injured Ninth is trying to get my Fenrir knife. A quick sweep-kick ought to subdue him easily”, so she did just that before Souda could even touch the knife handle. In doing so, Mukuro was able to grab the cleaver her opponent dropped on the kitchen floor from falling again, now disarming him while carrying two blades.

“Argh… can’t kill me if ya can’t get me or my Diary!” Souda exclaimed, still in pain because of Mukuro as he dragged himself towards the basement door.

Mukuro’s Tactics Diary signalled another change of fate. She looked at it and saw a handy prediction saying “16:49: Ninth is trying to make a break for it. Catch him with a toss from of the cleaver and make a fiery escape with Sixth to ensure Ninth doesn’t catch up”. Squinting as Souda raised his arm towards the basement doorknob, Mukuro flung the cleaver at the SHSL Mechanic’s rolled up sleeve as it cut through the fabric and attached Souda to his door. Souda tried pulling his coverall sleeve away, but the cleaver was in deep, so escape was futile.

“No… no no no no no!” Souda gasped, voice crescendoing in panic as he started to lose face. He tried pulling on the sleeve once again, but that attempt was just as fruitless as the first. “Goddamn it… I can’t die now! Fifth is gonna kill me; I’m so fucked!” he exclaimed, tears welling up in his face and dripping down to the floor he was forced to stare at.

Callously, Mukuro walked over to her defeated opponent and ripped the yellow-and-black Correction Diary from his hand, knowing all too well he was not only stuck to the door, but also far too injured and weakened to get up even if the cleaver wasn’t an issue. Now, she could have easily broken it right then and there and watched Souda helplessly fade from existence. However, Mukuro started thinking of a whole plethora of unfortunate possibilities following a certain Mechanic’s disappearance from existence. So instead of finishing Souda off in the easiest way, Mukuro walked off with the cell phone, Souda’s last sight of his conqueror being her taking out a grenade from her shirt  pocket before replacing the space with her own Future Diary. Finally accepting defeat, Souda let more tears and mucus fall in choked sobs from his face as it now touched the floor forever.

"So much for eternal respect and worship..." Souda sniffled before his mind shifted to another forlorn thought, causing him to sigh as the tears refused to stop. "...Mom, looks like I'm not gonna make it back for dinner tonight after all. Sorry for lyin' to ya..." he sighed to himself, awaiting his final fate.

At the front door, Mukuro opened it wide and told Ishimaru to come out from his hiding place from behind the sofa. When Mukuro yanked the grenade pin out with her teeth and spat it onto the floor, Ishimaru's scarlet eyes widened to the size of dinner plates at seeing the explosive.

"Th-Th-Th-That's a--!" Ishimaru sputtered as Mukuro still held the grenade spoon tight to prevent premature detonation.

"We need to cover our tracks," Mukuro explained, shoving Ishimaru out the open front door. "The last thing we need is to be charged for a Mechanic's sudden disappearance.

The second Mukuro let go of the spoon, she tossed the grenade back into the house with Souda's Correction Diary, the phone's final prediction reading "16:51: Souda Kazuichi was killed in an explosion caused by Ikusaba Mukuro. DEAD END". Mukuro rushed out of the house within the five seconds it took for her grenade to burn up and explode in a torrent of flames and destruction, tackling Ishimaru so they both slid across the yard while the explosion died with the Diary Holder's vortex-fading physical form inside. Once far enough away from the burning house, Ishimaru got up off the lawn and stared in horror at Souda's final fate.

"Sixth, we're done here," Mukuro said, indifferent to the explosion as she headed towards Souda's now-former workshop.

 _"How this fails to affect her even slightly is beyond my comprehension..."_ Ishimaru thought, rather put off by Mukuro's apparent lack of a single emotion.

They both arrived at the workshop where Mukuro opened its door and found the Kawasaki and its keys. She dragged Ishimaru onto the seat behind the driver's, telling him to hold on as she started up the engine.

"Since when do you know how to drive a motorcycle?" Ishimaru questioned.

"I do?" Mukuro wondered, corroborating her lack of motorcycle driving skills.

Improvising, Mukuro put a foot harshly on the engine, the Kawasaki clumsily going at a disgusting speed. Two loud noises rang in Mukuro's ear on the way back to Hope's Peak: the zooming of the repaired engine, and Ishimaru's screams of terror from excessive adrenaline. As Ishimaru clutched his acquaintance's waist, Mukuro kept turning harsh lefts and rough rights to avoid irritated cars. Eventually, they were both able to worm their way back to Hope's Peak Academy. But, there was one measly flaw in their drive.

"Stop the bike, Ikusaba-kun!" Ishimaru pleaded, unable to stomach anymore of the mad race back to school.

"I don't know how!" Mukuro told him. "We have no choice but to abscond!"

"Are you seriously telling me to jump off a motorcycle?! That's so unsafe!"

"More unsafe than dying?"

"Err, point taken."

Right before colliding with the school walls near the courtyard, Ishimaru and Mukuro leaped to safety as the Kawasaki once again crashed, reverting its repairs from "good as new" back to "hardly even touched". The two Diary Holders went over to the fluid-leaking Kawasaki and pushed it over to the nearby parking lot, Ishimaru looking again at his Friendship Diary.

"I guess that's a future that couldn't be prevented," Ishimaru pointed out.

"Quite a shame Oowada-kun's payment was all for naught," Mukuro noted in agreement, walking back through the academy's entrance with Ishimaru.

"If only today were just that; nothing more than picking up Kyoudai's motorcycle. But instead--"

"--Instead, we get rid of yet another Survival Game opponent. Such is fate, Sixth. Ninth's fate was sealed from the day Kamukura-kun made him a Diary Holder. Try all he may, he wasn't the one to reign victorious."

Mukuro looked at the time on her phone's smaller dorsal screen. Saying nothing else to Ishimaru but a goodbye, she left him behind with so much clouding his thoughts.

On her way to her room to claim some items for her personal training, Mukuro looked again at her Tactics Diary, this time switching to the photos section of the phone. She browsed through a few pictures until a particular picture from the past was found. In it was Naegi, smiling at Mukuro as she looked at him in the same way while holding the phone to take the picture. The very memory of a joyous event made tears come to the mournful Fifth, making her cover her leaking eyes as choked sobs escaped her drying throat.

"Naegi..." Mukuro breathed, sniffling back her tears and sobs, "If only I hadn't failed you; you'd still be with me...!"

Wiping the rest of her tears away, the melancholic Mukuro went into her room to grab the materials she'd originally sought.

* * *

 Elsewhere in the godly realm, Kamukura discovered Souda's demise in mild disappointment. He rolled his eyes at what he'd witnessed from it, explosion and all. In front of him, the blood red "DEAD END" circulated in a personal loop where Souda would stand, four circular stands to the right where Nanami's twin words spun slowly.

"I should have known better than to actually hope my brain's prediction would be wrong," Kamukura scoffed.

"What do you think your first problem was? You actually put your faith in stinky ol' _hope_!" Junko cackled, running a curling iron down her strawberry-blonde locks. "It's when ya focus on the beauty of despair that you're satisfied!"

"That explains why the first Survival Game got you so hot and bothered half the time..." Kamukura conjured an old item of his: a dark green and aqua-colored flip phone that showed its last prediction on how its owner proved victorious. "My stupid Inference Diary could hardly keep up with you."

"Yeah, it was despairingly cute whenever you thought your dinky phone would be enough to bring me down!" Junko giggled, summoning her own dark pink cell phone with a strange half-black-half-white bear head charm linked to it. "In the end, the Torture Diary of the Second reigned supreme!"

"--Until you died yourself and I became God."

"Bah, whatever! I still got pretty far!" Looking at the larger-than-life Kamukura from head to toe, Junko sighed. "You used ta be and look a lot nicer when I met ya. Almost didn't believe it was you when ya told me."

"Well, when you're stuck in here for Me knows how long, you kinda change a lot, Enoshima. Even I don't remember why I changed my physical form."

"I'm guessing because, like with everything, you got bored with your old look?"

Kamukura didn't bother answering Junko, instead dissipating his old Inference Diary and getting to work on something else. He thought about the Fifth and Sixth's alliance, so an idea sprung in his head as an assortment of pixels was conjured by his hands. Junko noticed this, smirking in curiosity before floating up to Kamukura's giant cheek.

"Whatcha doin', Izu-chan?" she asked in a cutesy voice, her eyes brightening and pigtails curling upwards.

"Fifth and Sixth seem to be causing the most unnecessary mayhem," Kamukura explained, making the pixels slowly form human limbs. "So, I'm creating something to make sure they kill the others without anything extra."

"Upupu, so, like some kind of babysitter?"

"The correct term is 'Observer', Enoshima. They're going to keep an eye on our little leads and see how they're doing."

"Hmm, oughta be interesting. Never thought I'd see the day anyone would have a good reason for observing my big sister!"

As the pixels continued to lackadaisically form a pseudo-human, Kamukura thought hard about what they'd look like. When the thought train moved more smoothly, he kept at it until he was at least somewhat satisfied with the progressing creation.


	11. Day 9: Invitation To (Mis)Treat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment response (and rant bc I'm honestly tired of your idiocy):
> 
> QwertysHuman: Lady Artemis cares very much about keeping chastity no matter the cost or context, whether it be for her (bc she's a Virgin Goddess) or her disciples. And as someone who's studied Greek Myths since the 7th Grade, it's a little known fact that the Olympians took everything from 0 to 100 and even seemingly overreacting. Even so, they always had perfect reasons for getting mad and lashing out. But, it's also a fact that, like regular humans, the Greek Gods had (get this!) FLAWS. In other words, no one acts all goody, nice, and happy 24/7 bc that's far too unrealistic. I'll tell you right here right now: There isn't a SINGLE human being on this Earth who's 100% "innocent" as you claim; everybody has their limits. No. Exceptions.
> 
> PS, myths change a lot depending on the source, so there's no clear telling set in stone. The most common source for Callisto being turned into a bear was Hera, who of course is known for doing horrible shit to Zeus' lovers bc she can't punish him herself (the last time she did, Zeus hung her from the sky by her hair). Also, do you really expect Hephaestus (who's usually kind-hearted and forgiving, evidenced by his eventual forgiveness of both Hera and Aphrodite for wronging him) to just sit there and ACCEPT the news that his wife was cheating on him with his brother? If so, then you're completely disgusting. He had every right in the book to be upset about being cheated on (bc who in their right mind would just sit there and not react to being cheated on by someone they truly love like it was perfectly fine?). True, you said "trapping [Ares and Aphrodite] in a net while having sex is just spiteful", but all I heard was "Hephaestus should have just sucked it up and dealt with being cheated on. Whoever would realistically act on a natural emotional response like anger at something so horrible is a fucking crybaby. How dare he get angry at his unfaithful wife backstabbing him with his BROTHER?".
> 
> TL;DR: You need a serious reality check, and to grow the fuck up. Greek mythology is freaky, and telling someone they shouldn't get angry at being cheated on is 100% guaranteed to make YOU look like the bad person who isn't so "innocent".
> 
> PS, Hestia doesn't even have a myth, so of course she never pissed you off. The only things we know about her is that she's Kronos and Rhea's first born and the hearth goddess. Literally. Nothing. else. No other tales, no flaws/mistakes (which you seem to staunchly against, btw). ZIP.

_"Ikusaba-san!" the familiar voice of a boy called out through darkness._

_Mukuro turned around wide-eyed, gasping with hope at the sight of the auburn haired boy with gentle olive eyes. He approached Mukuro as she hesitated with somber eyes, the guy who stole her heart pulling her into a warm hug before she reciprocated._

_"Naegi-kun," Mukuro breathed, slowly pulling apart from Naegi. "Is it really you?"_

_"Of course," Naegi answered. "Unless there's someone else you know named 'Makoto Naegi'."_

_"Nope, you're the only one, dear. It's so nice to see you again. Especially after last time..."_

_"It's good to see you again too, Ikusaba-san. You mean so much to me, I--"_

_Naegi gasped before he could finish his sentence, spotting a large figure behind Mukuro as the Soldier's loving smile disappeared, her joy replaced by worry._

_"What's wrong?" Mukuro asked, turning around at the last minute as the figure raised a large knife at her._

_"Ikusaba-san, watch out!" Naegi exclaimed, rushing in front of Mukuro just as the knife's blade went down in a swift dig._

_As it had in the past reality, the blade went right through Naegi's heart, his eyes becoming startled with pain as his crimson life liquid flowed from his halting red organ. When the knife was yanked out from Naegi's heart, the mysterious killer disappeared with a laugh, the deceased Naegi fell limp onto the floor, a shocked and tearful Mukuro kneeling to his corpse and cradling the top half in her gentle arms._

_"N-Naegi...!" Mukuro wailed in heartbroken sobs, holding her love's blood-stained corpse close while tears rushed out like a waterfall. "Damn it, not again! I should have done a better job in protecting you! B-But now, you're gone because of me, even in my own--"_

* * *

 Mukuro awoke in her dark room with a jolt, eyes wide and weary. Panting, her heart raced with anxiety as she rubbed her blue orbs a few times. She looked at her clock, which read "3:00" in the morning.

"Just another nightmare," Mukuro sighed, slipping back into her bed and closing her eyes for more sleep. "No matter. The day I become God, that's all the Survival Games will be. Just two traumatic nightmares that never actually happened."

* * *

 The day that followed, Ishimaru went to his first period class, looking at the Friendship Diary that just updated its future. Walking in, he saw no one was in that early besides himself and Mukuro, who was writing down the last five answers to a previous assignment.

"Good morning, Ikusaba-kun," Ishimaru greeted. "You know, you really ought to finish your homework the night before it's due."

“I had other important priorities and a lot on my mind,” Mukuro said stoically. “All I had left were five questions that are now… done.”

Giving a shrug and a head shake of disapproval, Ishimaru sat down at his seat and checked his Friendship Diary. There were some new predictions on both Mondo and Chihiro, but they were inconsequential ones such as “08:45: Chihiro-kun searches his bag and realizes he’s forgotten his notebook. My poor friend looks rather upset and nervous because of it!” and “10:18: Kyoudai appears to still be rather miffed about his Kawasaki. I unfortunately don’t have it in me to tell him what really happened”. Closing the Diary, Ishimaru concealed it within his pocket as more of his classmates arrived to class. When among those students was Chihiro, Ishimaru took the notebook from his bag and handed it to his friend.

"You'll thank me in a little while, Chihiro-kun," Ishimaru insisted. "Just bring it back when you're done with them."

Chihiro blinked with a confused ascending eyebrow. But, he thought nothing of it and thanked Ishimaru before taking his seat. Because of the SHSL Hall Monitor's thoughtfulness, the Friendship Diary in his white pants pocket updated loudly, the static increasing in volume once the phone vessel was given air.

"'08:45: Chihiro-kun writes down the notes I shared with him into a temporary notebook. At least now he won't fall too far behind in the lesson today!'," Ishimaru read to himself with a smile. "Well, another future perfectly altered!"

Unbeknownst to Ishimaru and the indifferent Mukuro sitting near him, two more sets of eyes were eyeing the Sixth Diary Holder looking at his phone. The static from seconds ago was loud and clear to them, exchanging whispers on how to take action soon.

After first period, Ishimaru prepared to leave as Mukuro did the same. Passing him was Mondo, who openly groused about the "cheap-ass mechanic who can't fix a little bike" on his way out, just as Ishimaru's Diary predicted. Right before he or Mukuro could leave, both were stopped by their fellow classmate: the hamster-faced SHSL Doujin Author, Hifumi Yamada.

"Is there an issue, Yamada-kun?" Ishimaru asked.

"Not at all, Ishimaru Kiyotaka-dono!" Yamada chirped with his usual jolly confidence. "In fact, I'm here as a mere messenger to issue you a personal invite!"

"Invite? Whatever for? I can't say I've ever been invited to any shindig from school before, so what are you hosting?"

"On the contrary, my fellow bushy-browed classmate!" Yamada corrected, pushing up his small glasses with a curled smirk. "It is not I who has the honor of hosting such an occasion. But instead, my dearest Celestia-dono has such an event planned for you and an optional guest!"

"Then why couldn't she have invited him herself?" Mukuro asked.

"Erm... Celes-dono had more 'important affairs' to attend to. So, I as her faithful 'pig boy' have carried out the task on her behalf! So, will you accept such a lady's offer?"

After Yamada handed him the personal two invite cards, Ishimaru examined them carefully. They were a smooth black and laced with a red ribbon each, describing a special anniversary at Celes' favorite casino. Ishimaru contemplated and pondered, not at all much for something so "dishonorable" as underage gambling.

"The occasion sounds harmless, but I'm strictly against gambling of any sort!" Ishimaru declared.

"Celes-dono said gambling at the party is optional," Yamada explained. "It would really, umm... mean a lot to her if you and a possible guest came."

"Well, if it's really that important of a shindig, then I suppose I could attend."

"Wonderful! Oh, and Celes-dono says you and your potential guest must dress up. She wouldn't be too happy if you showed up in your school uniform. Until then, Ishimaru Kiyotaka-dono!"

When the chubby Yamada left the classroom, Ishimaru put the invitation away and handed Mukuro the other. She stared at it as if it were some sort of artifact from beyond the stars, putting it in her bag with doubt.

"Yamada-kun said I was allowed one guest," Ishimaru reminded Mukuro. "And since you're my self-proclaimed 'bodyguard', you might as well accompany me."

"Very true. If we're ambushed by any Diary Holders nearby, then we'll be ready to fight."

If not for his polite nature, Ishimaru would have openly expressed annoyance by rolling his eyes. Instead, he sighed with disdain and nodded to humor Mukuro (not that he believed she was capable of even a giggle).

"We'll have to see what happens," Ishimaru said. "For now, we have until tomorrow evening to prepare for this formal event. So by then, clean up nicely and be punctual!"

Mukuro nodded and left the empty classroom with Ishimaru, passing by and failing to notice the walking Yamada. The Doujin Author made his way to the Dormitory Wing, ringing one of the doorbells until its resident used the intercom to answer the signal.

"Come in," the smooth feminine voice permitted from the other side of the door.

The dorm room was unlocked, allowing Yamada to enter and meet the girl who'd ordered him to deliver the invite: Celestia Ludenberg, otherwise known as the SHSL Gambler. Blood-red eyes peered up from a spread of ten playing cards in a ghostly pale, yet finely manicured hand, looking at Yamada with slight skepticism.

"Did you give Ishimaru-kun the invitation?" Celes questioned, sitting cross-legged on her bed.

"Indeed! He said he shall attend this Saturday!" Yamada answered.

"Well done, Yamada-kun. Everything's going as it should be. Will he be bringing a guest?"

"I told him he's free to do so, but I'm sure Ikusaba Mukuro-dono will accompany him."

"Even better. That way, we can literally slaughter two birds with one stone.

"Is there anything we'll need to look out for down the road, Celes-dono?"

Letting a low hum pass her nostrils, Celes' eyes peered down into some of her playing cards with the rest spread neatly on her bed completed blank. Looking at Yamada again, she spoke to him with feigned worry.

"Y-Yes," Celes sighed, eyes appearing melancholic. "You see,I'm being hunted down by Ikusaba-san and Ishimaru-kun as we speak. Sooner or later, they'll attempt to turn the school upside down just to try and take my life."

"Th-That's horrible! For what reason would they want to harm you?!"

"I'm not sure... I haven't nor do I intend to do a thing to them. P-Please, won't you protect me, Yamada-kun? I'm frightened..."

"Worry not, my lady! I shall protect you from those murderous ruffians! I will do anything for you and your safety!"

At Yamada's brave declaration of protection, Celes' false fear turned into a smirk of mischief at her once again successful manipulation. Sliding all 52 playing cards into a neat pile, Celes tied it all together with a single rubber band.

"I feel safer already," Celes purred manipulatively, wrapping her arms tenderly around Yamada's rotund face, causing it to heat up and redden as he started sputtering.

"Y-You can count on me, my lady!" Yamada assured Celes with a stutter. "I am not only your humble servant, but also your trusty knight! You are my Princess Cornelia li Britannia, and I am your Gilbert GP Guilford!"

"Splendid, my dear. Now, please step out for a little. I need to make a brief phone call."

Saluting, Yamada left Celes' room as she unveiled a flip phone colored black and red with a white lace keychain tied to it, a red diamond on the end of the lace. Dialing a number, Celes put the speaker to her ear and listened to it ring before speaking.

* * *

 In his room after classes, Ishimaru was vigorously working on an important project, already past the beginning part of it. Once most of the second portion was finished, he put the project away in a safe place and took out a textbook for History. But just as he started to read and review the assignment, his doorbell rang, making him stand up and go to answer it.

"It's probably Ikusaba-kun again..." Ishimaru believed with slight disdain until he was a little more relieved to answer the door to someone else.

“Hey, Ishimaru-chi!” Hagakure greeted, waving to his younger classmate. “How’s it goin’?”

“It’s going… okay, Hagakure-kun,” Ishimaru answered, blinking at the unexpected visit from the 20-year old SHSL Fortune Teller. “What brings you to my room?”

“I’ve heard from Oowada-chi that somehow, you’ve been guessin’ everything he and Fujisaki-chi are gonna do before it happens. It could be just a stupid rumor, but I wanted to see if it’s true.”

Ishimaru blinked once, face turning somewhat blue with shock as beads of sweat started descending past his thick brow. He tried to keep a bold face on, but Hagakure seemed to see right through it by the nervousness in the Hall Monitor’s crimson target-like irises.

“Ah-ha, so it is true!” Hagakure exclaimed, walking into Ishimaru’s room as he backed away nervously. “You’ve become a great shaman like me! So tell me, what’s your secret? What’s Oowada-chi gonna do next?”

“S-Secret? What’s secret? I haven’t a clue what you’re insinuating!” Ishimaru lied. “I can’t tell the future like you can, Hagakure-kun! You’re the clairvoyant, not me!”

“Yeah, but the ‘guesses’ I’ve heard you’ve been making come true 90% of the time. That’s 60% more accurate than my predictions! C’mon, spill it! What’s your secret, chairman?”

Although intrigued at being called a “chairman”, Ishimaru focused on the problem at hand, thinking of some way to get Hagakure off of his back while keeping him ignorant of his Friendship Diary. Pondering, Ishimaru was cut from his thoughts when the enchanted cell phone in question made another loud static interference, notifying Ishimaru of a new future to be either sustained or altered.

“Excuse me for a moment. I have a… text message,” Ishimaru told Hagakure, taking out his cell phone and reading one of the predictions on the screen. When he had his idea, Ishimaru closed his phone and cleared his throat while facing Hagakure. “Okay! I see… I see… I see…!” Ishimaru chanted, rubbing his temples with his eyes closed.

“What? Are you predictin’ the future without a crystal ball?!” Hagakure gasped.

“Yes, it’s very clear. I see… Kyoudai, and he will… approach you with a question regarding this conversation! And this shall happen about… a minute or so after you leave this room!”

“Really? Then I’d better get out so I can see if you’re right!”

When the Fortune Teller left the Hall Monitor’s room, the latter male peered out the door to see the prediction take course. As expected, Ishimaru saw Mondo approach the spooked Hagakure with a question pertaining to his diary’s prediction.

“Oi, did ya find out how Kyoudai knows what I’m doin’ all the time?” Mondo asked Hagakure down the hall. “I thought the class Fortune Teller would be able ta handle all that occult shit.”

“Hey! First of all, clairvoyance and the occult aren’t the same thing!” Hagakure snapped, “Second, holy crap, it’s true! Ishimaru-chi’s a fortune teller like me! He predicted you were gonna ask me somethin’ like that, Oowada-chi!”

“Did he? Is he in his room now? I’m gonna ask ‘im about this new little power of his.”

“Y-Yeah, he’s studyin’ for tomorrow though!”

“I’m sure a little ‘study break’ won’t kill him. Thanks, Hagakure.”

Upon hearing this, Ishimaru rushed to his door and tried to close and lock it. Unfortunately, this plan was foiled by Mondo beating him to the door and entering the room without his best friend’s permission. The Gang Leader was in no way angry with Ishimaru, but to say he wasn’t getting highly suspicious would be a downright lie. Gulping, Ishimaru allowed Mondo to come further into his room, sitting on his own bed idly.

“Alright, spill it,” Mondo demanded.

“Spill what, Kyoudai?” Ishimaru questioned, pretending not to know anything. “Elaborate.”

“Nah, don’t play dumb! I wanna know how the hell you suddenly got some kinda ‘psychic brain’ in just a week.”

“I don’t have any clairvoyance like Hagakure-kun does. I assure you I’m only a good guesser!”

“Bull. Kyoudai, there’s a huge difference between taking a shot in the dark, and being able to tell when something’s gonna happen each time. If you tell me, I swear to God I’ll keep it between us. You know how I am with promises.”

“Yes, Mondo, I’m aware you always stay true to your ‘man’s promises’. But honestly, this… this is something I really cannot tell you! It could lead to something terrible for all I know!”

“How the hell is it gonna cause trouble? Just tell me how you’re doin’ it, Kiyotaka. It’s no big deal.”

“No, Mondo! This isn’t something that you should know about!” Ishimaru protested, shoving Mondo right out the door and closing it before locking it tight as he’d intended to initially. “Now, have a good rest of the day and forget this conversation ever happened! Unless you’d rather I use my special ‘Forget Beam’!”

“Ugh, no…” Mondo sighed, sarcastic at the lattermost sentence. “You’re not gonna tell me even a little, are ya?”

“Not at all! This is for yours and Chihiro-kun’s own good! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Scoffing, a worried and suspicious Mondo walked off from his friend’s room, all the more curious about what he was hiding from him. On the other side of the locked door, Ishimaru sighed with relief, reading the message “16:01: Kyoudai left the room in a huff after I wouldn’t tell him about my Friendship Diary. Boy, was that a close call!” that popped up earlier. Satisfied at another secret kept, Ishimaru resumed his scholarly duties and sat right at his study desk, at last being able to read the History book that sat open and ignored beforehand.


	12. Night 10: Weaving A Lie-Filled Web

Saturday evening had come, and Ishimaru had just stepped out of his shower smelling fresh from the sanitation of his bathroom soap and water. Looking through his closet, he searched beyond the assortment of remaining identical white school uniforms until a black tuxedo and its works were found.

“I knew this would come in handy,” Ishimaru remarked to himself, pulling out the formal suit. “Celes-kun’s invitation did say to dress for the occasion. And it would be unjust of me to go against a simple wish and put on something improper for this shindig!”

Once his body was completely dried off with the damp bath towel, Ishimaru put on a pair of clean underwear before pulling a white, long-sleeved dress shirt over his muscular torso and buttoning it from bottom to nearly the top. He started to tug the black pants upwards, tucking in the long shirt as he did so until it was snug inside the fabric. After buttoning, zipping, and wrapping a belt through the loops of his pants, Ishimaru neatly pulled the smooth tuxedo jacket over the tucked-in dress shirt, topping his look off by fastening a black bow tie to the collar and slipping on a pair of matching black dress shoes.

"Swell!" Ishimaru proclaimed, adjusting his bow tie in the mirror and putting the Friendship Diary in his pocket for safekeeping. "Now, I can go see if Ikusaba-kun's ready."

Leaving his room, Ishimaru locked the door behind him and went over to Mukuro's dorm room. Ringing the doorbell, he received an "I'll be right with you" from the girl on the other side. About half a minute later, Mukuro emerged, wearing a knee cap length midnight blue dress with halter straps that just covered her Fenrir knife and respectful scabbard. On her feet were low-heeled pumps with ankle straps for security, making slight thuds against the carpet as she walked out and presented herself to Ishimaru, who was rather surprised at how nicely she cleaned up.

"You look... lovely," Ishimaru complimented, fairly impressed.

"Thank you," Mukuro responded, putting her Tactics Diary into her camouflage purse. "You look lovely too."

"Err, thanks? I didn't know you were in possession of such a nice dress."

"Maizono-san was nice enough to help me purchase one last night. I picked this out myself because the color looked nice."

"Oh. Well, commendable job at cleaning up for tonight's event!"

Mascara-covered eyelashes blinked alongside Mukuro's fleshy eyelids as she closed her locked up bedroom and headed towards the main entrance with Ishimaru. Looking at the address on the invitations, Ishimaru and Mukuro went to the bus stop closest to Hope’s Peak Academy to await their mode of transport.

When it finally came after a good ten or so minutes of patience, both paid the cheap fee and boarded. The standing bus was rather packed save for a an entirely empty seat next to a boy apparently aged seventeen years wearing a red long-sleeved dress shirt under a black vest and tie with matching black pants and footwear. Having nowhere else to go, Ishimaru and Mukuro sat in that particular middle booth, but when they were, the mysterious teen with light red streaks on each end of his wild tow hair next to them immediately made eye contact and caught their attention.

“Ah, just the two I was looking for,” the boy greeted as the bus started driving off, waving to the duo with friendly, yet sickly-looking gray-green eyes. “Are you two perhaps Kiyotaka Ishimaru and Mukuro Ikusaba?”

“Yes, we are,” Ishimaru affirmed with a raised eyebrow. “How do you know our names, Sir?”

“Because Ludenberg-san has sent me to be your… ‘esquire’?” he wondered, looking at the smudge on his palm.

"Do you perhaps mean to say our 'escort'?" Ishimaru inquired.

"Yes! That's the word I was looking for," the boy chuckled. "My mistake."

“May we know the name of our sudden escort?” Mukuro asked sternly.

“Oh, where are my manners? You can call me Nagito Komaeda,” Komaeda answered. “Though, you really deserve a better escort than a pile of living garbage like myself…”

“Garbage? But you seem rather nice, Komaeda-kun!" Ishimaru insisted.

"If you're comfortable with that notion..." Komaeda sighed with a sad smile. He then looked out the window as the bus at last stopped. "Well, what do you know? We've arrived! Come on, you two! We shouldn't keep Ludenberg-san waiting."

Waiting for them outside the bus was a grandiose building with a flashing sign blazoning the name of the casino. Lights flashed from the active building and into the dusk-awaiting sky, almost bringing a whole new light to its atmosphere. When Ishimaru, Mukuro, and Komaeda walked inside, the interior was just as impressive. Everywhere they stepped, slot machines, wagering tables, and roulette boards made their home on velvet red carpets covering every inch of floor in the casino. Not only that, but hundreds of men and women were placing bets of either financial victory or oblivion, a cesspool of emotions and luck spreading through everyone like a horrible disease.

“It’s… flashy,” Mukuro remarked without much care for her surroundings.

“Well, it wouldn’t quite be a casino if it wasn’t, Ikusaba-san,” Komaeda commented. “Though, I can’t say I’m too fond of places with such noise. But, I have no choice since--” He couldn’t finish his sentence when an intimidating, yet slender security guard in a dark suit, shades, and black ear microphone approached them.

“Identification and membership?” he asked sternly, blocking the three’s passage.

“Oh, we’re here for Celes-kun’s formal event,” Ishimaru answered, pulling out his invitation as Mukuro and Komaeda both did the same.

“Go right ahead,” the security man permitted, gesturing them towards the red velvet staircase leading upstairs. “Ludenberg-san is waiting for you.”

Nodding, the three walked in the direction the guard was pointing them in. They were able to pass once two female guards took down the red rope barrier after being shown the invitations. Footstep by footstep, the tall flight of stairs led them up to closed doors, where Yamada was there to meet them dressed in a dark formal suit of his own. Although he’d secretly glared at Ishimaru and Mukuro behind his small glasses, the Doujin Author was able to put on a jolly facade at seeing the special guests.

“Ah, you guys have arrived!” he beamed until he looked at Komaeda. “Oh, and who may you be?”

“Komaeda. Nagito Komaeda,” Komaeda introduced, bowing slightly with a hand to his chest. “Consider me Ishimaru-kun and Ikusaba-san’s escort for the evening.”

“Erm, very well then…” Yamada said. “Right this way! My lady has been awaiting you!”

Yamada opened the doors to the courteously lit lounge behind, revealing the mild Celes, who was minding her own business for the time being by looking into the spread of playing cards leaning against her sharp nails. When the door closed again after the guests entered, she looked up, swiping the deck back into a neat pile and closing it.

"Delighted you could make it," Celes said in a voice like fine silk. "And I see you have a special... guest accompanying you both."

"He's our escort," Mukuro noted. "Even if we only met him tonight."

"My name is Nagito Komaeda, Ludenberg-san," he greeted, reaching a palm out for a handshake.

"Enchanté, Komaeda-kun," Celes replied with a smile. "I do hope you three all have a fun time tonight at my party."

"Speaking of which, what's the occasion?" Ishimaru asked. "You never really specified on the invitation."

"You haven't heard? It's only been one full year since I've made myself known at this casino. Why, I've been here so long, everyone is practically a faithful subject of mine!"

"I wasn't aware you were that popular in the gambling business," Mukuro pointed out. "But, I guess you are the SHSL Gambler for a reason."

"And such a lovely talent deserves to be celebrated, doesn't it?" Komaeda wondered.

"Precisely, Komaeda Nagito-dono!" Yamada declared. "Let's all have a wonderful night tonight, and may Celes-dono's 'reign' be as prosperous as her life!"

Celes called the bartender from behind the counter, ordering  non-alcoholic drinks for her and her guests. Nodding, he quickly went away and started shaking different liquids in his shaker tin in an impressive manner and speed. In no time, five champagne glasses were filled with a fizzy tawny liquid and dispersed neatly on the counter, the bartender bowing once and leaving. Each teen took one glass for themselves, Ishimaru looking into his with a skeptical squint as he swirled the liquid around.

“Don’t worry, Ishimaru-kun,” Celes assured him, “it’s only a mere cider, so there’s no alcohol in it.”

“Well, as long as I’m not drinking something I’m not old enough for,” Ishimaru pondered, taking one sip of the delicious liquid.

When they all finished their drinks, all of the champagne glasses were returned to the counter for the bartender to claim and have cleaned. Celes dismissed everyone to the lower floor to start celebrations and fun, to which all but Yamada seemingly left.

“When do your cards say you’re due to meet your demise?” Yamada asked.

“Later on tonight. And my cards do not tell a lie,” Celes answered grimly, being only half-truthful as she took out her card spread again. “However, in about two hours from now, Ishimaru-kun will try and attack me to destroy my Diary.”

“That fiend! I will make sure it never happens!” Yamada proclaimed.

“Wonderful. You may also want to steer clear of Ikusaba-san. She’s quite bloodthirsty and savage, so death will be imminent if you’re not careful.”

“Noted! Celes-dono, you shall not die tonight!”

Celes sent Yamada away, preparing to join the others downstairs. But before she could, she heard some low chuckles in the dimly lit lounge room. Turning around, Celes let out a startled yelp as Komaeda came out from the shadows, a sly grin stretching his lips across his face.

“So, your cards don’t tell a lie, do they?” Komaeda wondered, tapping an index finger to his chin a few times. “Strange, my Master has told me otherwise, especially since a certain someone has the _Liar Diary_.”

“How did you?!” Celes gasped, slightly deterred before regaining a poker face. “Now now, Komaeda-kun. It isn’t nice to eavesdrop. After all, it could lead to some rather  _unfortunate_ circumstances.” Celes unveiled a metal blade attached on her index finger, ready to point it at Komaeda.

“‘Eavesdrop’ is such a strong word, Ludenberg-san. I’d like to think of it more as ‘common knowledge’ from my Master. But, at least by using your Diary, you still cling to the hope of surviving. And to that, I commend you!”

“Hope? There’s no need for ‘hope’ when I can guarantee you that I shall live on. And since people can be oh-so gullible, my Liar Diary is going to help me claim victory.”

“When is hope ever unnecessary? Like I said, it’s the very thing that’s helping you along in this Game. But let me warn you; the minute you lose sight of it, that’s when Fifth and Sixth will be your downfall.”

“So, it’s those two that have arrived…” Celes pondered, scarlet eyes slanting shadily. “No matter. There has yet to be someone who cannot fall prey to my ‘tactics’.”

Komaeda walked over to Celes and took out two random cards, one of them blank for a silent moment before conjuring up text. The card that had no need to change had the text “17:38: I’ve convinced Yamada that Sixth is going to attack me for no reason. He should be able to keep him preoccupied for a bit”, while the other read “21:07: Sixth seemed to have bought my bluff of playing a 'game', but he still manages to dispose of my Diary. DEAD END”. When Celes took the cards back, looked through her assortment and put them back chronologically, she shot Komaeda a dark look while he merely gave her a smile.

“Let’s see if your unique talent and Diary can get you out of your Dead End, Eleventh,” Komaeda wagered. “Because from what I’ve just read, I wouldn’t lose any hope if I were you.”

“Trust me, I can get myself out of anything,” Celes chuckled with a smirk. “And personally, I can win any game you name. This Survival Game is no different, nor will it be an exception.”

Komaeda let out a little chuckle before nodding and leaving Celes behind in the room. When he saw her catching up behind while hiding the deck of cards in her black lolita dress, Komaeda started plotting about what to do next about the unsuspecting Ishimaru and Mukuro.

 _“Izuru-sama is counting on me,”_ he thought. _“He said not to interfere too much, but all I have to do is not go overboard.”_

Once downstairs on the lively casino floor, Komaeda met up with Ishimaru and Mukuro while Celes went over to the awaiting Yamada. As Komaeda took off with the two he was supposed to “escort”, he shot a mischievous glance at Celes and Yamada, who were equally sinister in their gazes. When they followed, Celes’ lightly glossed pink lips folded up into a small smile, reading another card of prophecy.

 _“Phase one starts now,”_ Celes announced in her mind, looking at Yamada with a nod of confirmation as she put the Liar Diary deck back in a neat pile within her dress. _“I may only be the ‘Eleventh’, but really; what is an eleven but two number ones denied prominence?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Godly Alignment: Yasuhiro "Celestia Ludenberg" Taeko = Hermes/Mercury (Hermes has many jobs, but he's also known as the "trickster" god of lies, which Celes is more than good at due to her deceptive and manipulative nature).
> 
> I should also note that I'm not as good at writing the SDR2 characters as I am the DR1 ones, so this chapter was a little sloppy in my opinion. I'm just learning how to write for Komaeda bc he's so damn hard to figure out...


	13. Night 10 Part 2: Ante-cipating Disaster!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> Zeke: (Welcome back! Missed ya in Chapter 10, friend! ♥) Yeah, I don't mind Komaeda because he has some likable traits, though I've read he's given some people the "heebie-jeebies". I'll just have to keep working at him as the story progresses.  
> As for your conjectures, you'll just have to keep reading~ Some might be a bit surprising, though their obvious in my eyes.

By almost 7 pm, the night had taken off into a boisterous environment.  Most around the casino were having the time of their lives, freely gambling and betting money in hopes of winning big. Music blasted throughout the bright building, only made louder by the cheers and shouts of the many casino-goers.

At a roulette table, Ishimaru and Mukuro were boredly watching Komaeda participate in a game he’d been coerced into playing. It was only the first round, so the other players watched carefully at their young participant. Once someone had dropped a ball into the circular board, Komaeda called out his nonchalant guess.

“Black 28,” he said, watching the ball of chance spin around in a dying speed.

Eyes swirled and followed the ball, sweat pouring down the faces of the other players. The ball spun and spun until it finally stopped, earning gasps of surprise from most as it took refuge on the blackened “28” space like Komaeda had guessed.

“Lucky shot!” one of the casino players snarled, handing Komaeda a hefty bet of ¥500,000 worth of casino chips. "Make another call!"

"Okay then," Komaeda said. "Red 14."

Again, the ball was tossed onto the roulette board, spinning around until it paused on the bright red space with a white "14" on it. The other players were shocked beyond comprehension, handing Komaeda yet another ¥500,000 in casino chips. The tow-headed boy, however, gave a calm smile at his winnings, taking it as if it were no big deal.

"Okay, one more time!" another player insisted. "This time, it's all or nothin'!"

"Another round?" Komaeda wondered. "Very well. This time, I'm betting everything I've earned. Whoever wins gets rich quick."

"Komaeda-kun, perhaps now would be a good time to stop?" Ishimaru insisted. "I'm strictly against gambling, but if you lose this one, then your efforts will be all for naught!"

"T'is fate, Ishimaru-kun. However, surely you must believe there's some chance of victory."

Before the ball was tossed onto the board again, Komaeda called out the "Black 26" space. Around and around did the tiny ball go, finding a chance encounter with any space. It slowed down greatly and appeared to be ready to fall into the red 30 space, teasing pleasure within Komaeda's opponent. At the sight, Komaeda was surprisingly happy for them.

"I see you're quite hopeful of your possible winnings," Komaeda remarked. "Never lose sight of that joyous feeling inside."

Unfortunately for the opponent, the ball decided the red 30 was unsatisfactory and instead chose Komaeda's call of the black 26 space as its home.  The jaws of his opponents dropped to the floor alongside Ishimaru's (Mukuro was far too apathetic to pay much heed, save for the blinking of her eyes at the lucky victory) as Komaeda was handed the doubled amount of reward chips by the tearful opposing players. Smiling lightly, Komaeda walked off carrying his winnings in his arms, Ishimaru and Mukuro following.

"You must be a natural at gambling," Mukuro conjectured. "It's usually highly unlikely for someone to win big three times in a row."

"No, I'm probably just an extremely lucky man," Komaeda refuted. "Though we'll have to see how the rest of the night turns out, Ikusaba-san."

Komaeda cashed in his millions of casino chips, and the lady at the counter took them in before giving Komaeda blocks of yen notes. He decided to split profits between him, Mukuro, and Ishimaru. While Mukuro accepted some with gratitude, Ishimaru blocked it with a palm and a shake of his head.

"I cannot accept profit that was earned in such a disgraceful way!" Ishimaru objected.

"Reasonable enough," Komaeda shrugged. "I don't really blame you for being so uptight at these sort of things."

Ishimaru let out a slight noise of offense at being called "uptight", which Komaeda raised a confused eyebrow at. Shrugging, Komaeda walked off elsewhere with the two he was escorting. They all kept walking until they encountered Yamada, who was waiting on the sidelines while Celes focused on an intense poker game. Ishimaru was about to ask something, only to be shushed by the Doujin Author while the Gambler paid heed to her game.

None of the players showed any emotion in their expressions, keeping a straight face through and through. They put down a few more casino chips into the large stacks for betting, followed by one or two anonymous red playing cards each. When they all picked up a few more cards each, everyone maintained a poker face before laying down their set of cards, the exception being the card-keeping Celes.

“Flush,” one of the players announced discreetly.

“Beat that, Ludenberg,” another taunted.

Luscious eyelashes batting against her orbs, Celes calmly laid down her own set, earning wide-eyed stares from her opponents. A small smirk crept upon the glossed pink lips she so bore, releasing the set until it fell neatly onto the table.

“Straight flush,” Celes said, taking her winning chips as a victory prize. “It looks as though I win again.”

“When do you not, Celestia?” one player asked her with a chuckle.

“Wonderful question, Irino-kun. And the answer? Never.”

Confident, Celes carried the ¥300,000 worth of casino chips out with her as she met up with the group. They all followed her to the nearest desk, where she cashed in her chips for actual yen notes. Soon after, Celes handed most of the cash to Yamada for safe-keeping, glaring at him and pointing a bladed finger close to his face.

“If I find you’ve spent even a single note without my consent, you won’t like what I do, pig boy!” Celes threatened, tone picking up somewhat in volume.

“Y-Yes, ma’am! I won’t spend even one yen!” Yamada squeaked, safeguarding most of Celes’ profits in a bag that the Gambler didn’t bother carrying herself.

“Good. Now, why don’t we all take a detour to the slot room? There are more festivities there.”

Arriving in the room full of occupied slot and pachinko machines, there were a few select casino-goers at a large platter table, nibbling on a few hors d'oeuvres and dishes in celebration of Celes’ party celebration. Celes notified her three newest guests that they were free to move about where they pleased, Yamada going off to a nearby spot since he already knew the drill. When Mukuro and Komaeda left, Celes had Ishimaru stand by for a bit by grabbing onto his shoulder for a second.

“What’s wrong, Celes-kun?” Ishimaru asked.

“There’s something urgent I must inform you of, Ishimaru-kun,” Celes warned, secretly looking at info that had just taken form on a playing card hidden in her sleeve. “It’s about Ikusaba-san. She… ugh, forget it.”

“She what? Tell me!”

“Ikusaba-san is plotting to kill you tonight; I overheard her doing so in the bathroom a little over an hour ago.”

“Are you sure, Celes-kun? I mean, Ikusaba-kun doesn’t look as though she wants me dead… at the moment.”

“Looks can be deceiving, my dear. Think about it, you know next to nothing about her, so how do you know you can really trust her? Surely someone with the title of ‘Super High School Level Soldier’ who was also in cahoots with a mercenary group wouldn’t hesitate to take you life.”

The seeds of doubt Celes had implanted in Ishimaru started sprouting healthy and strong within his subconscious. He looked at Mukuro, who was tinkering around with the lever slot machines, and faced Celes with a face of nervousness. Gulping down a roll of bile in his throat, Ishimaru’s forehead began to sweat somewhat with imminent fear.

“And you’re positive Ikusaba-kun is plotting to kill me tonight?” Ishimaru wondered.

“More than so. I wouldn’t dare lie to a fellow classmate of mine. And since we are classmates, we must look out for one another, no?”

“Y-Yes! Thank you for warning me beforehand, Celes-kun. I’ll be sure to keep an eye on Ikusaba-kun to make sure she doesn’t pull any tricks! I should have known someone like her wasn’t to be trusted…!”

Celes smirked, realizing her lie thoroughly and easily convinced Ishimaru. She dismissed him as he went over to Komaeda at the pachinko machine, watching it and Mukuro behind them both with skepticism and doubt. Taking the card out of her sleeve, Celes was delighted to read “19:17: Sixth has been tricked by yours truly into thinking Fifth wants his blood on her hands. A piece of cake considering he’s allied with some bloodthirsty psychopath.”. She saw another blank card from her Liar Diary make text, this one taking place four minutes from then and saying “Now I’ve convinced Fifth that Sixth isn’t to be trusted either. Nothing like turning the tables on two allies.”.

Over at the slot machines, Mukuro put in a small amount of money through the yen note slot of the gambling mechanism, yanking the lever until the three blocks spun and spun to choose a final stop. When they did decide, two large red sevens popped down in the first two blocks, catching Mukuro’s attention instantly. Blinking, she awaited the third block to choose its symbol, heart skipping a beat when it decided on a third seven, causing a generous amount of money to pour out of the machine.

“It must be my lucky night,” a rather pleased Mukuro remarked with a light smile, picking up the motherload of cash from machine that had spilled onto the floor.

“Did you get it on the first try, Ikusaba-san?” Celes asked when she was close enough to the Soldier.

“No, I didn’t. I lost a bit of money on the first few tries, but I believe ¥60,000 is still a fair amount.”

“Quite impressive for a rookie, I’d say. Listen, there’s something you should know… about Ishimaru-kun.”

“It sounds important. What is it?”

Celes put on a fake expression of sadness and showed it off to Mukuro, who kept a straight face despite being willing to listen to whatever her host was going to say to her. The SHSL Gambler recalled what her Liar Diary’s most recent prediction said and acted on that, conspiring a way to fool Mukuro.

“He doesn’t trust you one bit,” Celes stated. “In fact, he thinks you’re out to kill him for some silly reason. He said so when I just talked to him.”

“You don’t say…” Mukuro pondered, masking her appallment very well with a calm expression.

“Oh, I do say. Not only that, but get this: Ishimaru-kun is planning to ensure your downfall to save his skin. He even mentioned how he’d be glad to get some sort of ‘psychotic monster’ off of his back for good.”

Mukuro blinked twice, mouth parted in disgust and shame directed towards Ishimaru. She thanked Celes for the warning as the Gambler walked back to Yamada, smirking mischievously at another deception well done. Sorting through her deck of future-telling cards, she put it right before a blank card that made its black print appear like magic.

 _"So, I need to convince Yamada-kun to start a wild diversion a little after 8:30 and tell everyone Ikusaba-san did it,"_ Celes thought from reading the card. _"Shouldn't be too hard."_

"Is something the matter, Celestia-dono?" Yamada asked. "Is your death going to occur sooner than we thought?!"

"No, it's still marked for another two hours. Listen, I need you to do me a little favor. All you have to do is…"

Celes whispered the next set of instructions for Yamada in his ear, allowing him to obediently nod and gather Ishimaru, Mukuro, and Komaeda for the next phase of their plan. The group of four followed Celes to the casino’s elevator, where they all waited patiently in the vessel of ascension for the next part of the Gambler’s celebration. Unbeknownst to Celes herself, Komaeda was looking at her, smirking as his mind began devising a scheme of his own. While that happened, Ishimaru and Mukuro stood next to each other, shooting each other suspicious glances before inching away until the elevator came to a stop on the third of many floors.

Led by Celes herself, the group made their way into an occupied room full of round dining tables in front of a stage. Hanging above the stage was a black banner with white laces that read “365 Days Of Ludenberg-san!” in fancy red cursive paint, the four suits in each corner of the sign. From the moment Celes set foot in the room, every last one of the guests inside started breaking out into applause and cheers, some spurts of confetti in unison with a few noise makers going off.

“If it isn’t our guest of honor!” the guy on stage called out through the microphone. “You’re just in time for our festivities!”

“How delightful,” Celes chuckled, putting a few fingers to her lips. “This means a lot, Esuno-kun.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” one of the guests wondered, “Let’s keep it going! After all, our number one client deserves the best!”

* * *

 In the course of only a single hour and a quarter, everyone in the room was already having a blast. Catchy music reverberated through the room as several guests mingled, munched on a few dishes from the long table at the side, and a couple of them singing karaoke on stage. Celes and Yamada were having friendly conversations with Esuno, while Komaeda kept a careful eye on them while sipping one of the beverages.

Elsewhere in the room, Mukuro sat at one of the tables, fiddling through her Tactics Diary in case of any sudden moves should a Diary Holder have been among the people in the room. She looked at the ongoing party around her, but shrugged it off with indifference, having much larger fish to fry in her mind. While she did that, Ishimaru took a deep breath and attempted to make small talk with one of the guests, approaching them firmly, yet in gentle enough so they don’t run off.

“So… lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” was the first thing that came to Ishimaru’s mind, escaping his mouth as the ice-breaker.

“Umm, yes, it is,” the guest agreed sheepishly. “So, how long have you been gambling here?”

“Oh, I don’t gamble. I personally think it’s dishonorable and immoral,” Ishimaru admitted before realizing what he just told a resident gambler. “Not that you’re any of those things! I’m sure you’re a very nice person who just so happens to gamble!”

“Right… well, I think I’ve been keeping my friend waiting. Thank you for that ‘eventful’ talk.”

The older person left hastily without another word, leaving behind a defeated and embarrassed Ishimaru. It was then Mukuro finally left her seat and came over, having watched the whole thing. When Ishimaru noticed her, he flinched for a moment before backing away from the girl he believed would kill him later on. Mukuro’s eyes furrowed with annoyance before rising back up into a more blank expression of serenity.

“What was that all about?” Mukuro asked him. “The conversation, I mean.”

“I messed up mid-point,” Ishimaru admitted, still keeping his distance. “‘Normal’ conversations were never really my forte.”

“Your blunder might have something to do with the fact that you called that person ‘immoral and dishonorable’ for gambling. How words like that could even be said during a friendly talk is beyond me.”

“At least _I’m_ not someone who’s ready to kill innocent people at the drop of a hat. I’m rather surprised you haven’t attacked anyone tonight, Ikusaba-kun.”

“I haven’t a reason to, so I won’t. I was certain the class genius like yourself would be smart enough to figure that out.”

The second Mukuro said the word “genius”, Ishimaru looked as though she’d just insulted his mother. Blinking with a mouth agape, he gave her a glare of pure unadulterated disgust and offense, which she saw right away. Mukuro didn’t think she said any rude words in her latest sentence, so the Soldier brushed it off with the assumption Ishimaru was overly-sensitive. She resumed checking her Tactics Diary, suppressing her own offense taken at practically being called some deranged killer as she usually did.

In the other corner of the party room, Celes saw the clock on the wall tell her she was due to meet her end soon unless immediate action was taken. Pulling Yamada near the light switch, she secretly handed him a sharp blade and pointed randomly to one of the guests.

"You're not suggesting I--!" Yamada gasped, grasping the dagger's handle in his sweaty palms.

"Murder an innocent partygoer? Heavens no, dearie," Celes assured him. "All you have to do is injure them enough to get Ikusaba-san in immense trouble. Killing them isn't necessarily needed."

"Oh, well... in that case, I suppose I could manage the task."

"Then go now! I'm about to create a diversion."

Celes quickly flipped the power switch, freaking everyone inside of the room out completely. Within the darkness, Yamada crept along the frenzying partygoers to find a random victim. When he finally grabbed a broad arm, Yamada gulped nervously and jabbed the knife right into the bicep, a scream of pain ringing through the noisy room. At the same time the stab commenced, a strange, yet brief flash went off and surrounded Yamada in light for less than a second. Right before Celes flipped the lights back on and revealed the wounded adult man , Yamada managed to find Mukuro and slip her the bloody knife. Because of this, eyes that weren't focused on the bleeding man writhing on the ground were staring at Mukuro with shock and horror.

"How did I get this?" Mukuro wondered, surprised herself as she dropped the knife.

"She stabbed Tsukiyama-kun!" one of the guests gasped, pointing to Mukuro with the others.

"What? No, I didn't! This knife doesn't belong to me, and I don't know how--"

"Security! This woman is a menace! Take her away this instant!" Celes called out, feigning horror over delight.

Before Mukuro even had time to act, several top-notch security guards burst in and apprehended her, shoving her face first into the carpet. No matter how much she struggled and tried convincing the guards she was innocent, they ignored her and carried her out of the room with force. Following behind was Komaeda, holding a digital camera containing a clear image.

Believing Mukuro to be the reason Tsukiyama's arm was being treated and wrapped in first-aid gauze, Ishimaru felt nothing but disgust and fear towards her. His mind played the ill-conceived possibilities of that being him again, having experience with an attack or two from the Fifth Diary Holder. In midst of the dying party room chaos, he saw Yamada creep out as well, looking quite suspicious for some strange reason. Curious, Ishimaru decided to investigate and followed him.

Glancing behind, Yamada saw Ishimaru was following him. He smirked, having his stubby legs take his girth to one of the third floor lounges. Once inside the warm room with an active fireplace, Yamada didn't have to wait long for Ishimaru to show up. When he did, Yamada grabbed a metal hearth rod and hid it behind his back, batting it against his hand as Ishimaru looked at him with confusion.

"Yamada-kun?" he wondered, "You're acting strange. Are things alright?"

"Oh, yes, Ishimaru Kiyotaka-dono..." Yamada laughed, walking closer to Ishimaru and revealing the steel rod. "Things will be just _peachy_!"

Yamada moved forward, madly swinging the rod out at Ishimaru. The Hall Monitor easily dodged it, but saw how unwilling to give up Yamada was. After the Doujin Author took two more swings attempts near Ishimaru's head, the latter knew for a fact that Yamada meant business. Grabbing a second fireplace rod, Ishimaru used his kendō skills to deflect the next hit.

"What has gotten into you, Yamada-kun?!" Ishimaru exclaimed, pushing the enemy rod aside with his own. "Have I wronged you?! If so, please tell me how I can fix it and make amends!"

"It isn't me you've wronged, but someone dear to me you're about to wrong!" Yamada proclaimed, striking his hearth rod against Ishimaru's.

"Someone I'm about to? How is that possible!"

"Silence! I won't allow you to kill my sweet Celestia-dono! Her future shall overcome her dying end!"

When Yamada announced that before taking another deflected swing, Ishimaru realized what was going on. He also figured out that if he wasn't careful, he'd meet his own Dead End at the grubby hands of not a Diary Holder, but her lackey instead. Distracted for one moment at his fears, Yamada was able to knock Ishimaru's metal rod aside, not hearing slow footsteps clack against the carpet.

"And now, to silence you before you silence an innocent young maiden!" Yamada cackled, raising the metal rod high into the air.

**_BANG_ **

Neither boy had time to register what just happened, but the situation was clear. Blood protruded from the new hole in Yamada's thick gut as it was dripping from his hamster-like mouth. He saw Ishimaru was looking behind him in terror, so he shakily turned his head in the same direction. Unfortunately, the identity of the culprit holding the smoking pistol with a smile horrified and shocked Yamada greatly.

"Celestia... dono?" Yamada gasped with a weak wheeze. "But... how could you? Why would you...?!"

"I have my reasons," Celes chuckled with a small smile, clicking the gun's dorsal down with her thumb as her Liar Diary cards were held in a spread in her other hand. "But to spare you your draining time, I'll just say I am finished with your services. Permanently."

"B-But, my lady! Ishimaru Kiyotaka-dono, he--!" Yamada was cut off by Celes' malicious laughter as Ishimaru himself watched the scene in shock.

"What? Did you honestly think I was serious when I told you he was going to harm me? Hifumi, why don't you take a closer look at my Future Diary?"

Now that he was shakily kneeling and clutching the bullet wound with one hand, Yamada read different predictions word for word. In every one of them, he discovered they described each of Celes' predicted tricks and cons that were of use to her. Instead of saying anything, Yamada stared at the treacherous Gambler in heartbroken horror, while Celes herself gave him an icy, unfeeling glare.

"Have you not figured it out already?" Celes wondered with another smirk, pointing the gun at Yamada again. "I am the proud owner of the Liar Diary. As its name implies, it records every last lie I'm about to tell or trick I'll get away with at my benefit."

"Th-Then that means...!" Yamada gasped, more tears running down his face.

"Correct. Every little piece of future I've told you was a complete lie. So, now that you're no longer useful, you can rest easy for as long as you please. Doesn't that sound nice, Hifumi?"

"C-Celes-dono, please don't do it! I can't--!"

Without allowing him anymore final words, Celes pulled the trigger on the pistol, sending a mortal bullet right through Yamada's parietal lobe. Bits of the gray-pink organ of thought spilled from his damaged skull as Yamada fell limp, dying instantly before his body could completely touch the ground.

Ishimaru wasn't just horrified at what Celes had just done to their classmate. As the Gambler kicked Yamada's corpse a bit to the side with a bored yawn, Ishimaru felt the urge to vomit, nearly losing his balance from disorientation. He looked right at her, eyes speaking for his horror, which she merely giggled at with genuine humor.

"What?" Celes asked, "I was done with him."

"...You killed him..." Ishimaru breathed, trying to regain focus while forcing down nausea. "You killed him in cold blood, and you're _laughing_?! You're honestly **laughing**?!"

"You're absolutely right. Disposing of a used tool is far too bland to be humorous, isn't it?"

"A _TOOL_?!" Ishimaru roared, livid. "Hifumi Yamada was our classmate! A once-living human being, for God's sake! How on Earth could you shoot him without remorse and belittle him like it's not an issue?!"

"A tool is a tool, and a servant is a servant. There isn't any need to mourn something that's no longer of use to you." Celes' lips turned into another smirk of satisfaction, the next thought pleasing her so. "And when I win this little Survival Game, the entire universe shall do a wonderful job at replacing Yamada. Heck, I just might make them a little on the undead side--"

Outraged by Celes' prattle, Ishimaru grabbed a fireplace rod and swung it hard against the SHSL Gambler's face. His swing was rough enough to damage Celes' mouth until it bled, the mouth's owner caressing the injured area as she turned an angry glare to Ishimaru. Letting go, Celes put another poker face on, pointing the pistol at the furious Hall Monitor.

"What's say we play a little game, Sixth?" Celes suggested. "Some harmless Russian Roulette, if you will."

"Why would I do that? That's a dangerous game," Ishimaru pointed out.

" _Look_. Only one of us is going to make it out of this room alive anyways, so why not make things interesting for the two of us?"

Ishimaru saw the gun was not only still pointed at him, but that more than one caliber was loaded. Knowing Celes already intended to violate the rules of her own game, Ishimaru knew he had to act quickly or else. Thinking and thinking as Celes kept pointing the gun at him, waiting to shoot, Ishimaru finally sprung a mad idea when he noticed what was behind Celes.

"I shall play your Russian Roulette game, Celes-kun!" Ishimaru boldly agreed.

"Wonderful," Celes crooned, aiming directly in front of her, the Liar Diary stack still clenched between her other set of fingers. "And we'll start off with you!"

Not even seconds before Celes pulled the trigger, Ishimaru ran to the side. The bullet that was intended for his heart now just left a tear in his tuxedo sleeve and cut his arm. Celes was in shock to see her enemy quite literally dodged that bullet, now furious and determined to make sure the second time makes its mark. But before the potentially deadly shot could be fired, Ishimaru knocked the gun out of Celes' hand using one of the previously discarded hearth rods. The hit was not only harsh enough to disarm the Gambler of her pistol, but it also made Celes accidentally release her grip on her Liar Diary. Acting too late, Celes watched in horror as her deck of playing cards landed right into the fireplace, burning to ashes and marking its owner's Dead End.

"This... this can't be!" Celes roared, giving a surprised Ishimaru a look of rage as her body started to twist sideways and distort with her voice. "You shall meet your end, Sixth! I swear of it...!"

When Celes completely faded from existence in a mysterious vortex, Ishimaru blinked in utter surprise at what he'd just seen. He'd been expecting to see Celes die like how any person would, but one look at the burning cards in the fireplace made him think otherwise. Taking out his currently unneeded Friendship Diary, Ishimaru stared at it as if he'd never before seen it.

"So that will happen to me if I'm not careful with this thing," he breathed, putting the phone back in his pocket.

Before he left the lounge, Ishimaru turned his attention to the lifeless body of Yamada, looking on with nothing but grief and sympathy. Kneeling down, Ishimaru removed Yamada's glasses and lowered the Doujin Author's small eyelids so he could at last rest in peace. Once that was done, Ishimaru used a pail of water to douse the fireplace and left the room feeling all sorts of exhausted.

Down in the lobby, Ishimaru met up with Komaeda and Mukuro, who were looking pretty overwhelmed themselves. The Hall Monitor made eye contact with the Soldier, but she only looked away from him and at her open Tactics Diary.

"So, you managed to defeat Eleventh by yourself," Mukuro pointed out.

"How did you know that? You and Komaeda-kun went AWOL," Ishimaru wondered.

Mukuro showed Ishimaru her Diary. He discovered several new entries about him and battle strategies he had or could have used against Yamada. Not only that, but it perfectly predicted him using a bold strategy that led to Celes' imminent defeat.

"'21:07: Eleventh attempts to shoot Sixth. He must dodge the bullet and use his surroundings to disarm her so her Diary will burn after she drops it by accident.'," Ishimaru read off. "Your Diary makes battle predictions for me as well?"

"It must have to do with our alliance. That is, the one you're roped into with a 'bloodthirsty psychopath' who supposedly plotted to kill you tonight."

"Oh, that’s right. Ikusaba-kun, I’d like to apologize for believing you were going to kill me tonight. I should have known better than to listen to someone with the ‘Liar Diary’, shouldn’t I?”

“So, Eleventh had a Diary that predicts nothing but a bunch of fibs…” Mukuro pondered, refusing to respond to Ishimaru’s apology as she closed her phone and put it back in her purse. “Quite an unusual Future Diary, I’ll admit.”

“By the way, Komaeda-kun,” Ishimaru spoke, turning to the boy with the camera. “What were you and Ikusaba-kun doing while I was gone?”

“Well, Ikusaba-san got framed for stabbing Tsukiyama-kun in the arm,” Komaeda explained, showing the surprised Ishimaru the flash photo he was lucky enough to take in the dark. “So, after a very long and hectic interrogation, my photograph was finally able to prove her innocent of a crime she didn’t commit.”

“Wait, so Ikusaba-kun _didn’t_ stab him?” Ishimaru repeated, now bewildered when he looked at Mukuro. “But, I thought--”

“Just because I have a knife on me 24/7 doesn’t mean I intend to stab the first person I see,” Mukuro added apathetically. “I only use it when it’s totally necessary.  Now, shouldn’t we be headed back to school? This night has been quite hectic for all of us.”

Ishimaru gave Mukuro another surprised look in his eyes, which she promptly ignored as Komaeda led her and him out the door of the tiring casino. He recalled the one truthful thing Celes actually informed him of and allowed that to run around in his mind a little. The night's air had cooled a bit, but it wasn’t too bad of a wait at the bus stop, where the three sat in the transport vessel until Ishimaru and Mukuro got off near Hope’s Peak Academy.

* * *

 Much later on, Komaeda was summoned to Kamukura’s Realm, where he awaited below the throne with a smile until the God himself acknowledged him. Using his gargantuan hand, Kamukura allowed Komaeda to walk onto the palm and lifted him up so he was at eye level.

“How did it go, Nagito?” Kamukura asked.

“Pretty well for the most part,” Komaeda answered. “I meddled a little, but it was beneficial for Fifth and Sixth."

"Well done. But, there are now eight participating Diary Holders still alive, so you've got a ways to go until you're done."

"I'll suffice, but only for you, my Lord. I guess even trash like myself has some use if you need me."

"Remember, keep an eye on Fifth and Sixth as much as you can. Don't fail me."

"I wouldn't dream of failing you, my dear Izuru-sama. You gave me a purpose, and to let you down would diminish any wonderful hope of finding a successor you have."

Nodding, Kamukura sent Komaeda back to the mortal realm, leaving him all alone with Junko. He wasn't really listening to any flirtatious ramblings Junko was spewing at him, instead getting to focusing on how the rest of the Survival Game would unfold. Pulling down the large screen, Kamukura started observing the remaining Diary Holders, awaiting his successor with nothing but utter boredom in his eerie crimson eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There weren't any new Diary Holder debuts in this chapter, but if I had to pick a Godly Alignment for Komaeda (bc not everyone named after a Mythology figure is a DH in Mirai Nikki, remember that), he'd be Metis because of his devotion and loyalty to Izuru (who is aligned with Zeus, who was married to Metis way WAY before he married Hera). FTR, I'm aware Metis is a Titan and not a God, but MN has some Titan named characters too.


	14. Day 14: The Science Of Friendship

Days passed since the disastrous party at the casino until Wednesday had finally come. For that day, classes were shorter and ended three hours earlier at 12:30 instead of the usual time. Most of the students felt nothing but relief and excitement at having more free time to themselves, though a lot of them started wondering what became of a certain Gambler after her alleged “disappearance” the past Saturday. In addition, some were mourning the death of Yamada after word of his murder got out the Sunday following. All that was left of his presence in class was a single vased white lily sitting upon his desk.

Out of everyone, Ishimaru felt the most horrible about the recent events. After all, he spent days battling an inner conflict of remorse from taking someone’s life. True, he saw Celes’ true colors after what she had done to Yamada that fateful night, but her lack of morals didn’t seem to help all too much. Within that mix, Ishimaru also thought about what Celes said to him that wasn’t actually a lie.

“I know next to nothing about her…” he quoted from his memory of Celes tricking him. “Now that she mentions it, I really don’t. And after what I said to her yesterday, I must make things better for our alliance!”

Deciding on what to do next, Ishimaru went over to the Dormitories and saw in secret that Mukuro had just entered wearing a violet sports bra and black spandex shorts, dabbing her sweaty forehead with a small white towel. After she shut the door, Ishimaru took the chance to ring her doorbell once, prompting Mukuro to responding using her intercom.

“Who is it?” she asked from the other side.

“It’s Ishimaru,” Ishimaru answered before lowering his voice to a whisper. “You know, ‘Sixth’?”

“...Hang on. I’ll answer in a second.”

Ishimaru awaited Mukuro’s answering of her door with bated breath, unsure of how she’d respond to his offer. When she did open up, he was startled, not expecting to see her slender freckled body bare save for a towel wrapped around her secretive parts. Mukuro looked at him as he straightened up, phlegmatic steel-blue eyes shutting open and close as eyelashes tickled the lightly dotted skin below.

“What do you want, Sixth?” Mukuro questioned. “If you haven’t found a lead on anymore Diary Holders, then leave.”

“Sorry, Ikusaba-kun, I haven’t,” Ishimaru began, stopping Mukuro from closing her door when he’d said that. “But! There is something I’d like to propose for you.”

“And just what proposal could be so important if it doesn’t involve the Survival Game?”

“Look, Ikusaba-kun, I’d like to make up for last night’s misunderstanding. Eleventh-- I mean, Celes-kun, tricked us and turned us against each other briefly. And the more I think about it, I don’t think we’ve gotten to know each other too well.”

“But you know I’m Fifth, and I’ve been more than aware you’re Sixth.”

“That’s not what I mean! What I mean is, I’d like to get more acquainted with you since we’re partners in the Game and all. So, why don’t I take you somewhere later on today to get to know you more?”

“Absolutely not. If we interact, we might get attached to each other and spark a possible friendship. And if we spark a friendship, then we’ll get distracted and lose our lives for a petty reason that’s entirely your fault.”

“But, I hardly know anything about you, Ikusaba-kun.”

“And that’s knowledge you’re better off without, so let’s keep it that way. I know your offer means well, but consider it declined. Good day, Sixth.”

Mukuro was about to close the door again until Ishimaru kept blockading it despite her refusal. It was completely foreign to her why Ishimaru would even want to bother with her outside of dueling the other Survival Game players alongside her. But whatever it was, the SHSL Soldier saw it as a complete waste of time. However, Mukuro noticed Ishimaru wouldn’t be giving up anytime soon until she agreed to his proposal, the pleadingness strong in his target-like red eyes.

“At least consider it,” Ishimaru suggested sincerely, orbs like that of a helpless puppy’s. “I think this could be a great learning experience for the both of us.”

“...I,” Mukuro started, now facing Ishimaru as she stopped trying to force the door closed, “I must be getting in the shower. Is there a time you’d like to commence with the social learning?”

“You-- so it’s a yes? Oh, wonderful! If you can do about… two o’clock later today, that’d be great. Can you?”

“I have nothing planned for that time, so yes. I will accompany you to wherever you wish to take me.”

“Positively splendid!” Ishimaru beamed with a smile, “This is the perfect way to learn more about you and thank you for saving my life… twice! I shall see you then, Ikusaba-kun!”

Ishimaru scampered off to his dorm room not too far down on the same side of the hall. Mukuro went back into her own bedroom, unsure and rather apprehensive about the decision she’d just made. Unpleasant memories of the past flashed in her head, sending shivers down her sturdy spine at even just one. Gulping sticky saliva, Mukuro took a few deep breaths to calm herself a little before heading into the shower, hoping to wash away not only her fears, but also the built up sweat and stench from her earlier work out.

* * *

 A couple hours passed, and the awaited two o’clock came. In Mukuro’s room, the Soldier was brushing her bobbed black hair so it would look nice with her other outfit. On her body was a loose blue skirt that stopped at the top of her knees, and a white spaghetti strap tank top over a thin black bra. When she finished tending to her hair, Mukuro clipped a section back using one of the cute animal hair clips she'd bought the week before, this one of an adorable bunny rabbit's head.

She heard her doorbell ring again, prompting the Soldier to slip on a pair of black flats and grab the brown shoulder bag with blue, green, yellow, and red stripes that contained many essentials, her Tactics Diary among them. Mukuro answered the door with indifferent eyes, seeing the expected Ishimaru wear something in place of his school uniform for once. Instead of the usual gakuran and white pants, Ishimaru wore dark tan pants belted to his waist, a white dress shirt and black tie underneath a navy blue sweater, and brown shoes with dark gray socks.  Although Ishimaru looked rather dashing, Mukuro only looked at him with neutral feelings and gave a small compliment.

"It's not my everyday outfit, but Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun wanted me to put something else on for a change," Ishimaru explained. "You look rather nice today too, Ikusaba-kun."

"Thank you. Where are we supposedly going for this endeavor?"

"I thought it'd be appropriate to take you somewhere educational, yet interesting! That's why, I thought we'd check out the local science museum downtown!"

"Very well then. Let's get going."

Nodding once in agreement, Ishimaru started heading out with Mukuro after she locked and closed her room door. Once they left Hope's Peak, they began walking a number of blocks down, at last reaching the Science Museum. At the front entrance, Ishimaru paid his entrance fee and started to gather money for Mukuro too. However, Mukuro foiled his attempt when she took ¥300 out of her wallet and walked in after receiving a map guide.

Ishimaru followed after grabbing his own map, taking in the sight of the metallic hull and beam that made up the museum's unique lobby. He looked around in awe, trying to share his fascination with Mukuro. Sadly, Mukuro didn’t quite express any feelings about it whatsoever, which failed to discourage Ishimaru from trying harder.

“Ikusaba-kun!” he exclaimed, pointing upwards as he got closer to Mukuro. “Don’t you think this is fascinating? It’s not every day you see museums with this type of lobby!”

“It’s fairly interesting,” Mukuro responded dully. “Now I wish to go see something else.”

“Erm, acceptable. Where would you like to go?”

Mukuro showed Ishimaru the place on the museum map and headed that way with him. She looked around at the surroundings she passed, only gazing at them with indifference and finding them inconsequential to her duties. It took a mere few steps to reach another section on the first floor, which was an entire theme dedicated to the electricity and energy that helps humanity survive.

Ishimaru carefully examined each part of the first exhibit he’d set eyes on, becoming increasingly fascinated at the educational, yet entertaining purposes it among many served. From the giant fan to an exhibit displaying household appliances, Ishimaru was impressed and mesmerized. He turned to Mukuro, who seemed to be reading an exhibit on how electricity generates through a large communication tower.

"You know, I hear there's something they let you use to generate your very own electricity!" Ishimaru suggested with enthusiasm. "Isn't that something?"

"It sounds delightful," Mukuro answered plainly. "Where is it?"

"It should be right... here!"

Ishimaru pointed out the mechanical exhibit, where Mukuro walked over towards. She stared at the machine for a few moments, making physical contact with a lever by grabbing it and pulling it downwards. With a few button presses and turn of a crank, Mukuro got the electricity from behind the insulated see-through box crackle and dance uncontrollably. The sight was quite unfamiliar, but managed to make Mukuro nod with some peaked interest.

"How fascinating," she uttered, still studying the electricity she created as she gave a few more turns of the crank. "Who knew 'making' electricity was this simple?"

"So, you've found something that interests you!" Ishimaru remarked, "That's a stupendous display of electricity you've created."

"I'll admit it's a new sight. However, I'm ready to move on now."

"O-Oh... Okay then, let's go to the 4th floor's exhibitions. I heard they have quite a few on the universe. It should be interesting, right?"

"We'll see, Sixth. We'll just have to see."

Ishimaru and Mukuro went to find the stairs. While the Soldier merely heeded her surroundings without much feeling in her, the Hall Monitor she was allied with was deterred by her despondency. In order to hopefully rectify this, Ishimaru cleared his throat of saliva and bile to gather some of Mukuro's attention.

"So, erm, have you ever been to this museum before?" Ishimaru asked. "This is actually my third time coming."

"How delightful," Mukuro replied with a vocal shrug of apathy. "And no, Sixth, you're the first to take me here."

"Okay. Are you enjoying your first visit to the science museum?"

"Some of the exhibits are intriguing to say the least, but none of them will help with my mission."

"Ikusaba-kun, couldn't you take at least one afternoon off from thinking about your mysterious mission? Or from the Survival Game for that matter?"

"I wouldn't dream of it. Just the thought of letting my guard down is unacceptable. And I suggest you do the same, Sixth. Otherwise--"

"--I'll meet an early Dead End, I know. But honestly, I'm just trying to make nice with you. Who knows? After this trip, we just might become friends--"

As if the mere word was poisonous, Mukuro hurried further up the stairs they'd started climbing without a word. In no time, her legs carried her to the 4th floor and its planetary exhibits. While Mukuro started looking at the displays, Ishimaru observed some himself. He was more than fascinated at the giant replica of what appeared to be Mars, taking a picture of it and a few other exhibits nearby using his cell phone.

Once he finished taking the photos of the many individual planets in the Solar System, Ishimaru went over to the exhibit on the Milky Way where Mukuro was. She herself was taking some memorable snapshots of the exhibits, reading and observing them all the same. The moment she noticed Ishimaru was close, Mukuro only gave him a shivering glance before ignoring him once again, prompting him to keep a fair distance while still being in speaking range.

“It’s… hard to believe our fair galaxy is merely a dust speck compared to the entire universe, isn’t it?” Ishimaru asked.

“From that context, it is an extraordinary thought,” Mukuro said. “Is there something you require, Sixth?”

“No, there isn’t. I was hoping to finally strike up a decent conversation with you.”

“What happened to ‘decent conversations aren’t my forte’? As I’ve said before, I’m only here because you made a harmless offer. I’m still sticking to my mission, and I refuse to slow myself down by wasting my time befriending you.”

“Friends aren’t a ‘waste of time’, Ikusaba-kun. Even if you have just one, it’s nothing but beneficial to the soul! Believe me, I’m more than grateful to have only two friends instead of none. I brought you on this trip to make amends and hopefully raise that companion count to three.”

“Then you’re wasting your time. I do not wish to befriend you. We’re allies in a dangerously senseless Game, and nothing more. If I were you, I’d give up while I had the chance.”

Mukuro’s frigid words pierced Ishimaru true, but his very determination prevented him from “giving up” as she’d suggested. He wanted to believe there was more to Mukuro than she was letting on, and it was _his_ mission to see if it was true. Looking at the museum map, Ishimaru saw two things that could possibly get the ball rolling a little more.

"Why don't we go have some lunch?" he suggested to the stoic Soldier in front of him. "Even if you aren't hungry, then it could be a nice break from all of that stimulating walking."

"I've already eaten," Mukuro refuted. "But since I'm stuck with you until we leave, I shall join you in the cafe."

Nodding with uncertainty, Ishimaru led Mukuro to the cafe by following the map's word of its location. When they arrived, they were able to take a seat at a small table, sitting across from each other in a somewhat heavy atmosphere. Mukuro only made eye contact with Ishimaru sparingly, and even then, her stares were rather unnerving to the male.

"Erm, have you... visited this museum before?" Ishimaru asked again.

"You already asked me this question," Mukuro said flatly, "so you know the answer already."

"Ah, that's right, I did. Okay, next question! What are your interests?"

"Well, I'm the SHSL Soldier, so I'm fascinated with warfare and combat. Since I was younger, military weapons have always peaked my interest no matter what."

"I-Interesting..." Ishimaru breathed sheepishly. "How did you become so good at fighting? And killing civilians for that matter."

Mukuro gave him a disgusted look, obviously taking a degree of offense to the insensitive question. Regardless, she cleared her throat and answered. "That information is classified. Just know I worked with Fenrir in my middle school days, and I got stronger with vigorous training."

Ishimaru soaked in the new information on Mukuro, though the context itself and Mukuro's secluded nature put him off greatly. About to ask more about his ally, Ishimaru never reached his next question when his phone vibrated in the left pocket it rested in. Mukuro looked at the phone; Ishimaru raising an index finger to tell her to hold on briefly before answering his phone a couple feet from the table Mukuro sat at.

"Kiyotaka Ishimaru speaking," he answered. "Oh, hello, Chihiro-kun!"

"How are things going with Ikusaba-san?" Chihiro asked from the other line. "Are you guys friends yet?"

"No, we're not. Ikusaba-kun doesn't seem to want to open up at all."

"Have you made small talk with her? Maybe asked her a little about herself?"

"Yes, I've commenced with small talk. And quite frankly, she was rather vague. But from what I've picked up, Ikusaba-kun really is all about violence and mercilessly killing innocents. It's as if she cares about nothing else."

"W-Well, from what I've heard, she is a former mercenary. Try not to let what she used to do stop you from making friends with her."

"I won't, but Ikusaba-kun's a tough nut to crack. She's just so aloof and devoid of feeling; it makes me wonder if _anyone_ could ever make friends with her. Nonetheless, I will keep trying to reach her!"

At the same time Ishimaru said bye to Chihiro and hung up his phone, he saw Mukuro rise up from her seat and storm out of the room with a tightened lower lip and squinted eyes. Quickly closing and putting his phone away, Ishimaru tried catching up to Mukuro to ask what was wrong, but she merely shoved him away and ran off through the crowd outside the cafe without a word.

Ishimaru pushed himself through the swarm of people, trying to find where Mukuro had gone. When he made it through the crowd, the Soldier was nowhere to be found. Ishimaru bumped into one of the museum guests from the crowd, quickly asking if they saw a girl with short black hair and freckles running through there.

"Yeah, I think she went towards the bathrooms," they elaborated, pointing in the direction. "She looked pretty upset for some reason. Do you know why?"

 _"Ikusaba-kun? Upset?"_ Ishimaru wondered internally, treating the combination of words as unfamiliar. "No, I don't, sorry. Thank you for telling me where she is."

Ishimaru memorized the direction he was pointed in and followed it. With a little help from the map, he managed to find the restrooms. He dared not go in the forbidden girls' public bathroom, instead leaning his ear to the door and picking up the sound of choked up and heart wrenching sobs. Ishimaru knocked on the door three times, only for the crying to continue without acknowledgement of the knocks.

Looking behind him, Ishimaru made sure no one was paying attention before deciding on a risky action. Once ignored by the bystanders, Ishimaru opened the door and quickly went in, stopping right behind the shiny pink concrete wall concealing the toilets. In his sight of view at the edge, there Ishimaru finally found a seemingly alone Mukuro, who surprised and worried him simultaneously on the inside by letting more sobs and tears quake from her entire body. He saw she removed her hands from her face to wipe her still-flowing tears away, tearful sniffles coming from her mucus-dripping ruddy face.

"It’s good to know now that only one person ever truly cared about me..." Mukuro sniffled, forcing back sobs as she looked at a few pictures of Naegi on her black rectangular flip phone. “The one person who didn’t think I’m some homicidal monster is gone, and it’s all because I should have been the one protecting him!”

Ishimaru watched Mukuro put away the phone containing pictures of her late love, still sobbing and crying hard from grief and self-disgust. All this time, he’d believed the girl he had been working with an emotionless assassin who couldn’t care less about anything around her. Now here was that very girl, in the bathroom of a museum crying her eyes out all because of something he’d said earlier. Whatever he classified as guilt and remorse earlier would now be more accurate to describe as what he felt now, watching the Soldier cry her wrenching heart out like some helpless child. He wasn’t sure if he was his place to help her, considering he was the one that pushed her over the edge. But, Ishimaru’s guilt was stronger and he felt determined to make things right. Clearing his throat, he walked a bit forward without going near the toilets, reaching a hand out when he was in visible sight.

“...Ikusaba-kun?” Ishimaru called softly, suddenly catching the alarmed Soldier’s attention before she refused him eye contact again. “Are you alright?”

“Why should you care?” Mukuro asked him through sniffles, wiping her tears before they continued to fall down her freckled cheeks. “Just do me a favor and go away. I’ve been through enough with you.”

“But, Ikusaba-kun, you look quite upset and I heard you--”

“--Crying? Yes, it’s surprising that a ‘bloodthirsty, emotionless murderer’ is, like you, a human being with real emotions.”

“Of course you’re human, I just never thought you… you know, expressed yourself really. Nothing ever seemed to bother you no matter how nerve-striking it sounded.”

“That’s because I’m used to suppressing my feelings to focus on more important situations. I may not show my emotions, but that doesn’t meant they don’t exist. And frankly, it’s quite annoying that you’re among those who don’t seem to understand that.”

“I… I didn’t think that--”

“Exactly, you didn’t.” A few more tears fell from Mukuro’s weary and bloodshot eyes, prompting her to sniffle more mucus back as the last bits of her emotional iron mask crumbled off. “You’ve never repeatedly had to hear people call you a ‘monster’, a ‘killer’, an ‘emotionless brute’, or perhaps an ‘uncaring psychopath’, so I didn’t expect you to get it. I’m used to such words, but that doesn’t mean they’ve never once stopped hurting me.”

Ishimaru was positively stunned. He’d wanted more than anything that day for Mukuro to express how she really felt, but her inner feelings came as a huge shock to him. Add insult to injury, the SHSL Hall Monitor felt like he deserved to be physically struck for being so insensitive to her, especially to the point where he was the reason she ran into the bathroom to cry out to no one. Now, he certainly wasn’t an expert in cheering people up, but he didn’t see any reason to just give up and abandon Mukuro. Not when she was so emotionally vulnerable and showing it.

“Ikusaba-kun,” Ishimaru began, “I never meant to hurt your feelings at all, and words can’t express how sorry I am for assuming you had none to begin with! I really shouldn’t have thought you’re unable care about anything, and I vow to work towards trying to understand you more! ...That is, if you’d be willing to find it in your heart to give me that chance so I can return it.”

Upon hearing this, the tear-soaked Mukuro finally looked up at Ishimaru with reddened eyes tired from crying. The fact that Ishimaru not only refused to leave at that point, but was also genuinely trying to apologize surprised Mukuro greatly, such concepts being almost alien to her. She sniffled back more bile in her nostrils, her eyes now full of uncertainty. A part of her approved of accepting Ishimaru’s offer, but the other, more pained half was telling her to refuse him. Ishimaru’s own eyes were full of so much remorse that it left a twinge of pity in Mukuro’s heart, feeling all the more sympathetic for him. After she couldn’t find any words to affirm or reject his offer, Ishimaru sighed somberly, preparing to carefully leave the threshold path of the girls’ bathroom.

“I understand, Ikusaba-kun,” he said to her, turning around with shame. “Again, I’m deeply sorry for hurting you. It will never happen again.”

“...Wait,” Mukuro spoke, stopping Ishimaru by getting up and grabbing his wrist gently. “Isn’t there more to do at this museum? There’s no sense in just going back to school when there’s more to see.”

Ishimaru’s heart of shame was ignited with a spark of hope, courtesy of Mukuro’s words. He also noticed a small smile tried tugging her lips, but couldn’t quite stretch its wings yet. Nodding, he was about to lead Mukuro out of the girls’ bathroom when she stopped him, telling him to crouch down slightly while blocking him from front view by slithering outside carefully. Once outside, Mukuro told Ishimaru the coast was clear, signalling him to stand up and come out from behind her.

“Where did you want to go next, Ikusaba-kun?” Ishimaru asked.

“There’s this planetarium show that comes on in a few minutes,” Mukuro answered, reading her map. “I wouldn’t mind going to see what it’s like. Let’s go see it.”

Following the map, Ishimaru and Mukuro traversed the building until they reached a place called the "Planetarium Hall". Both paid their respective ¥450 for payment and went inside the minute they were handed tickets. They found some excellent seats in the middle of the somewhat packed theater, sitting down next to each other minutes before the room went mostly dark for the inception of a planetary experience. Ishimaru was openly stoked and excited about it, while Mukuro to his right kept her eyes on the screen to anticipate how the show would go for her. Her eyes were still somewhat sore from crying, but she blinked a few times to eradicate most of the sensitivity and adjust to the change in lighting.

Right below them, the doors closed to blockade any unwelcome light from getting in, the planet show commencing in unison. Everyone in the audience was taken into a view where they seemed to be rising above space. It wasn't a thing like viewing a movie on screen, but rather, their sight believed they were truly within a shuttle ascending from Earth. The sight shifted from that to a whole new world, where everyone seemed to shift right around the scarlet beauty of Mars. Each movement was smooth, carrying its guests through the small planetary arrangement within an entire galaxy.

As it shifted from planet to planet, Ishimaru found himself robbed of breath, taken in awe by the wonders of the starry world that was outer space. He turned to Mukuro, who, while certainly not as openly passionate about this as Ishimaru was, still showed a noticeable degree of amazement on her face. Ishimaru smiled somewhat at this sight, continuing to watch the phenomenal show with hopes that Mukuro would still open up even more.

* * *

 After a whole 45 minutes of an intergalactic experience, Ishimaru and Mukuro left the dome-shaped theater feeling exhilarated. Ishimaru laughed with joy as he recounted his favorite parts of the show, while Mukuro joined him in a much calmer fashion. The two walked to a different floor, returning to the cafe they'd separated in to begin with. Nothing on the menu interested Ishimaru at the moment, but Mukuro went up and ordered a delicious slice of strawberry cheesecake to go, waiting only a good few minutes until it was cut and packed with a fork and napkins. Receiving her paid dessert, Mukuro licked her hungering soft lips as she left the cafe with Ishimaru, sitting next to him on a bench situated within the metallic lobby.

"I didn't know you enjoyed sweets," Ishimaru commented as Mukuro began eating bits of her drizzled strawberry cheesecake.

"Among other things you don't know about me," Mukuro added, savoring the sweet taste arousing her tastebuds.

"True, very true... But, the offer to get to know each other better is still on the table."

"Sixth, getting to know someone completely isn't like a job interview. It's knowledge you acquire over time. You're free to ask questions, but don't expect to learn everything about me in one go. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am! Though, may I ask what other interests you have besides warfare?"

Mukuro had swallowed half of her cheesecake by the time the question was asked, cleaning her mouth before talking. "As you've recently found out, I enjoy sweets and cute things. Back in Fenrir, I never got the chance to have either, so it's nice to acquire those when I can. And though I'm no longer in-training, I still like to keep my skills and health up regularly."

"Ah, it is important to stay healthy each day! Perhaps you could join me in my morning stretches sometime?"

"I'll take that into consideration, but that's only if there's time for that. Now, if you would permit me, I wish to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Why do you spend the majority of your time studying? I mean, yes, education is a huge priority, but you seem rather smart on your own. Despite that, you drive yourself crazy if you don't score 100 on an exam. Shouldn't the class genius be more calm about these sort of things?"

Letting out a low gasp, a quite offended Ishimaru's mouth was somewhat agape at what Mukuro just said to him. The very look of being appalled surprised even Mukuro, who put her fork back into the box of cake, blinking with bewilderment.

"Is something wrong, Sixth?" Mukuro asked with innocence.

"Don't _ever_ call me a genius, Ikusaba-kun," Ishimaru demanded with a growl in his voice. "I am in no way such a horrible word! Day in and day out, I study and work my hardest to rise to the top! The alleged geniuses in this world would do no such thing and rely on talent alone to do their dirty work for them! If I were to consider myself one of those fools, then I'd have no right to call myself anything but a big fat disgrace!"

Mukuro's lips curved into a small "o", blinking again with surprise at Ishimaru's anger at the otherwise harmless word. Ishimaru noticed this and quickly calmed himself down, clearing his throat and appearing more sincere in comparison to his angry tirade just a few seconds earlier. He really hadn’t meant to blow up, but that was just a common reaction to being called such an offensive word after what he’d been through.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Let’s just say the word ‘genius’ and myself are incompatible. I really shouldn’t have gotten so hot-headed when you didn’t know better.”

“Don’t apologize. Instead, tell me why being called a ‘genius’ upsets you so much. You seemed none too happy when I called you such the night you took out Eleventh.”

Although the very memories pained and revolted him greatly, Ishimaru couldn't leave Mukuro without an explanation. He felt she greatly deserved one after snapping at her and putting her through so much beforehand, so he inhaled sharply through his nostrils before summoning some speech.

"Have you heard of a man by the name of Toranosuke Ishimaru?" Ishimaru asked.

"Umm... yes, I believe he was among our numerous former Prime Ministers," Mukuro answered. "I heard he tragically ended his life for some reason. Did you have connections to him?"

"Unfortunately, yes. That shameful man was my grandfather."

"Shameful? How could being the grandson of a great leader be shameful?"

"'Great'? After what happened to my family because of him, that's the last word you'd want to describe him with," Ishimaru laughed wryly until he paused. "True, I once saw Grandfather as great, but that was before that stupid scandal!"

"There was a scandal? From what you're saying, it must have been awful."

"Oh, and awful it was! In fact, his cockiness and lack of experience with failure is what caused his demise!”

Ishimaru began telling Mukuro on how his grandfather was the stereotypical “genius”, to the point where he only rose to the top on a high school degree. Voice going somber and regretful, he ignored the wrenching in his heart as he continued his tale of woe, including how Toranosuke messed everything up by being blinded by his own vain ignorance and remaining oblivious to the dissatisfaction of the citizens. Each word not only caused Ishimaru more internal and external stress, but also made Mukuro start to feel incredibly bad for him, setting her box of cake aside to listen further.

“All in all, that man put my family into a great debt we still have yet to completely pay off,” Ishimaru sighed with a heavy heart of shame, burying his eyes in his hands. “Even my father’s co-workers have shamed him for having the blood of such a lazy, arrogant man! The ‘genius’ that was my grandfather has caused my brood nothing but grief!”

“...I’m so sorry that happened to you and your family,” Mukuro apologized with sympathy. “And you’re more than correct to say that those who don’t work at least some won’t get very far in life.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Ishimaru sighed forlornly. “After all, it isn't like you were involved in any way. At least you see things my way and despise those self-centered geniuses!"

"Well, 'despise' is quite a word. I mostly think that a little training goes a long way. If I never bothered to train during my time in Fenrir, then I wouldn't be alive right now."

"True, true indeed! Working hard and trying your best can even save lives! Thank you for the wonderful example, Ikusaba-kun!"

Mukuro nodded in agreement, continuing to eat the rest of her strawberry cheesecake. She was more than pleased at the sweet fruity taste conquering her mouth, melancholic at the least when she realized her favorite dessert was gone. But, Ishimaru's next question made her almost choke on her strawberry-tainted saliva, her heart growing grim all the more.

"Ikusaba-kun, if it's alright to ask, how come you're so against making friends?" was the question Ishimaru chose to ask next. "From the moment our alliance started to now, you've despised the very word."

Mukuro's grim feeling was now spreading from the inside out, eyes flinching with horrid memories. "If you've been through what I have, making friends is the last thing you want to do if you wish to conquer death," Mukuro answered, swallowing more gross throat bile. "After I lost... him, I never wanted to go through such pain ever again."

"Oh, so you did have a friend you held dear!" Ishimaru pointed out, his mind free again from his family's rough reputation. "What was his name?"

"Makoto Naegi," Mukuro answered, somberly taking out her cell phone and showing Ishimaru the happy picture of her and the late brunette together. "To say he was dear to me is saying the least. Naegi-kun wasn't just my friend; he was my confidant, my hope, and... he was everything to me."

"What happened to Naegi-kun?"

"...Let's just say I couldn't protect him when I should have. He died because I wasn't more alert, and I vow to never forgive myself for letting him throw his life away for me...!"

Mukuro hadn't noticed it, but more tears were leaking from her cool periwinkle eyes, her voice becoming slightly choked up. She only realized it when Ishimaru handed her one of the napkins from the cake box, the Soldier staring at it before accepting the sensitive paper.

"You were crying again," Ishimaru pointed out. "It would be dishonorable of me if I didn't at least do something to help you."

"Thank you, Sixth," Mukuro sniffled, wiping her tears and nose with the napkin. "I appreciate the gesture."

"Furthermore, Ikusaba-kun, such a secluded mindset about deep relationships is unhealthy! You should never try and prohibit yourself from becoming attached to people who care about you!"

"But if I let myself get attached and lose them forever, then what good is befriending them?"

"That's still no excuse to isolate your emotions! Yes, losing someone you hold dear to you sucks, I understand completely. But you shouldn't get forever hung up about them being gone! Instead, cherish what you had with them and how much they cared about and loved you. I'm sure that's a much better want from them than for you to be all alone and cold for the rest of your life!" Ishimaru saw Mukuro was giving him a look of conflicted uncertainty, so he kept trying to be a little more sensitive for once. "There comes a time to mourn the departed, Ikusaba-kun. But even that can't keep going on and on with no end. Sooner or later, you'll find a way to heal and let others in to help you along. Is that not how it's supposed to work?"

Now Mukuro was only looking at Ishimaru with slightly wider eyes, heart beating despondently in her chest. She felt more tears pleading to fall, instead wiping them away with her bare arm. Something within her saw something... familiar in Ishimaru, almost as if she was looking at an old cherished companion or love. Because of that, Mukuro was able to nod as a sign of understanding Ishimaru.

"Does this mean... we're friends now?" Ishimaru asked with a smile of hope.

"F-Friends?" Mukuro asked shyly, darting her eyes away with soft uncertainty. "Well, I don't quite know if I'm ready to use such an official term after all this time. But, from now on, I promise to look out for you and keep you safe! And this time, I won't keep my feelings a secret from you any longer."

"Really? Oh, this... this is wonderful, Ikusaba-kun! You haven't a clue how happy I am to hear this!"

"Yes, it does feel... quite overwhelming. But, it's a good overwhelming! Very good indeed, Sixth."

"You know, I do have a real name outside of the Survival Game. Please, with all due respect, at least call me 'Ishimaru'."

"My apologies... Ishimaru-kun. No longer will I refer to you as anything but that name!"

Ishimaru found himself smiling, having made a new companion. Granted, Mukuro was still very uncomfortable with using any form of the word, but he could tell she was starting to see him in the same light. All of a sudden, his Friendship Diary signaled an interference future change. Ishimaru opened it up and was quite surprised at what he read.

 _"'16:04: Ikusaba-kun and I have bonded greatly over a wonderful conversation. We're great friends now!',"_ Ishimaru read in his head. _"16:12: Ikusaba-kun loves the gift I gave her. I never knew she had such a beautiful smile! She should do it more often!'."_

"What does your Diary say, Ishimaru-kun?" Mukuro questioned with worry. "Is it bad news?"

"No... as a matter of fact, it's the opposite!" Ishimaru answered with a smile, closing his phone and putting it in his dark tan pants pocket. "However, we shall cross that bridge when we come to it! Right now, we should be getting back to school. The museum should be closing soon."

Mukuro nodded, throwing her box and contents away in the garbage can next to the bench before heading towards the exit with her shoulder bag on her back. Ishimaru stopped in his tracks when an idea came to his head, telling Mukuro to meet him outside as he went into the gift shop. A few short minutes later, Ishimaru joined Mukuro outside with a small bag in his hand. Before she had time to ask, he quickly surrendered the bag to her.

"I wonder what it could be?" Mukuro inquired, eyes widening with wonder at the plush item between her palms after unveiling it from the bag. "It's a little gray wolf...!" she breathed, looking at the plush wolf with beady eyes.

"I recall you saying you're a fan of cute things," Ishimaru coughed nervously. "Do you like it?"

"Like it? Ishimaru-kun, I... I love it! This is so thoughtful of you, thank you so much!" Mukuro beamed, a smile openly crossing her face.

"It was 'no problem', as they say! And may _I_ just say how beautiful your smile is? You really ought to smile more often, Ikusaba-kun!"

"Wh-What? No, it's not... I mean--"

Mukuro couldn't find the right words to justify herself. Instead, she wound up smiling and laughing for a moment, walking back to Hope's Peak with a hearty Ishimaru. As they approached their elite and selective school, Ishimaru noticed Mukuro was still pleased and holding her gray wolf plush doll. He himself felt the same joy she did, taking his Friendship Diary out and looking at the two predictions that had come true before him with a smile on his face.

 


	15. Day 16: The Eighth's New Focus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses (which I really miss; I love getting comments and want to hear from my darling readers...):
> 
> Gamekrazy306: Yup, Muki's finally showing Taka her "dere" side instead of her "kuu" side. This is only the start of their relationship improving~! ♥

The Friday afternoon that followed, Ishimaru was in the library studying with Mukuro during their lunch period. Both were quietly reviewing for a test that would occur a week from then, so Ishimaru suggested taking extra initiative. Ishimaru held up a flash card from the neat pile in front of him, Mukuro looking onward to try and guess the word.

“Define ‘inertia’,” Ishimaru instructed quietly.

“The resistance of a physical object in its state of motion, including being at rest or actually moving,” Mukuro answered.

“Correct! Only two more to go. What is the formula for density?”

“Mass divided by volume.”

“Right again! Okay, last question! Who is considered the ‘father of physics’?”

“Hmm… it was, what was his name?” Mukuro asked to herself before coming up with an answer. “I believe it’s… Albert Einstein?”

“And that’s… correct! Astounding job, Ikusaba-kun. You’ve guessed every question right!”

“Even if it did take a few tries to go back and conquer the ones I initially got wrong. Thank you for the study session, Ishimaru-kun.”

“It wasn’t a problem! Anytime you need a ‘study buddy’, I’m your guy! I’d be more than happy to help--”

“If you two don’t mind, some people are trying to acquire some peace and quiet,” Togami hissed from nearby, sneering at both of his classmates. “If you aren’t going to stop talking, take your incessant prattle elsewhere.”

“My apologies, Togami-kun,” Ishimaru whispered. “It won’t happen again!”

Togami let out a low “hmph”, resuming his personal reading and ignoring his unwelcome guests sharing the library with him. Ishimaru and Mukuro closed the physics book, proceeding to get a start on homework for mathematics. But before they could make a mark on the paper with their eraser-less pencils, Ishimaru’s phone vibrated from his pocket.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Mukuro, hurrying out of the library as she decided to start her math homework.

Once out of the secluded and dimly-lit cesspool of literature, Ishimaru looked at the vibrating phone, the contact on the back screen saying “Mother”. He opened it, pressing a green button and putting the cellular device to his ear.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Kiyo-kun, it’s Mom!” his mother chirped from the other line. “If it’s alright, I need you to do something for me after your classes.”

“What is it, Mother? It sounds important.”

“It is. I need to take some crucial photos in for work, and I need you to come with me to the studio.”

“Why do you need me to accompany you?”

“Maybe if I’m lucky enough, they’ll let me get in a few pictures of my darling boy! After all, it’s been awhile since I’ve been able to see any recent school pictures.”

“We’ll have to see if they’ll allow that, Mother. What time is your appointment?”

“Five o’clock this afternoon, so try to get on the train as soon as possible. See you then, Kiyo-kun! Love you!”

Ishimaru gave his mother an “I love you too” before closing the phone when the woman on the other line hung up. He returned to the library, where Mukuro had gotten a head start on the assignment. When she saw Ishimaru come back, Mukuro stopped working on the assignment and waited for Ishimaru to sit down.

"Who was calling?" Mukuro asked.

"My mother," Ishimaru answered. "She needs me to come with her to an important photo shoot for her job.”

“I shall accompany you then. You never know when there are Diary Holders waiting in the wings to strike.”

“If you’ll feel comfortable coming with me, then fine. It could be our first actual experience as friends!"

"Like I said, I'm not comfortable with such technical terminology. Why don't we call ourselves... 'intimate allies'?"

"That's certainly a new term. But, if it makes you comfortable, Ikusaba-kun! I plan on catching the train to Yodoyabashi Station no later than 3:50 this afternoon. That way, we'll be there by 4:30."

"You live in Higashiosaka? I heard they have quite a few choice high schools over there."

"They're also quite keen on sports. Whatever isn't Tokyo we're mostly satisfied with."

Looking at the time on his closed phone, Ishimaru saw he had a good two hours before his journey. In the meantime, he took out his homework and began working on it with Mukuro. Although she already had half the paper filled out, Ishimaru insisted on checking it over for accuracy and correctness.

* * *

 Observing the nearly-omniscient screen in the godly realm, Kamukura observed the two leading  Diary Holders with a cheek resting on his knuckle. He saw nothing wrong with their study session at all, but a sudden series of visions came to his head regarding Fifth and Sixth's plans. Shutting his eyes once, Kamukura raised his arm halfway to the side, a flurry of pixels taking the form of Komaeda as Junko watched from the side while drying her damp long hair.

"Oh great, the compost lackey's back," Junko scoffed, running the dryer's combing extension through her strawberry blonde follicles. "Why'd ya call him back this time, Izuru?" Junko took another look at Komaeda, acknowledging something different on him. "Ugh, you call those _rags_ new clothes?"

Komaeda took another look at himself, noticing the dark pants over tan zipper shoes, white T-shirt with a strange red symbol on the front, and a frumpy mossy green hoodie somewhat tattered at the bottom. Instead of sharing Junko's revulsion, he looked at his attire with a pleased smile. As for Kamukura, he looked upon his top pawn with hints of sorrow and resent, old memories flowing through his head.

"It's certainly not dashing like my casino outfit, but these clothes personally befit someone of my worth much better," Komaeda stated, tugging the choppy part of his hoodie.

"Boy, I'll say," Junko agreed, brushing her now-dry hair and styling it into her usual pigtails.

"...Nagito, you have a mission again," Kamukura announced, masking the bittersweet feelings brought on by the other boy. "Fifth and Sixth are going to a photo studio later on, and there's gonna be another Diary Holder where they're going."

"And you want me to make sure it's a mostly clean fight?"

"As is your job. Don't fail me, Nagito."

"It's my pledge not to, my dearest Izuru-sama. I am loyal to no other God or mortal."

"Good. Now, get going."

Sighing with melancholy, Kamukura sent Komaeda off, looking in the other direction from his throne with a cheek resting bored in his palm. His attention was only grabbed for a startled second when Junko floated up next to her partner's dark locks, giving her a half-lidded glance.

"And what are _you_ doing, Junko?" Kamukura asked with annoyance.

"Now that it's just us, I thought I'd give my favorite God a new do~!" Junko purred affectionately, brushing down a few wispy clumps. "And would it kill ya to shrink down ta normal size? These locks are despairingly huge!"

Not caring in the slightest anymore, Kamukura shrouded himself in darkness and matched his height up closer to Junko's height until they were both far too small for the young God's throne. As Junko sat down and cheekily got to work by separating the brushed hair, Kamukura sat with crossed legs and folded arms with a sigh. His mind flashed back to his other accomplish, more forlornly pertaining memories being recalled within his mind.

* * *

 3:50 pm had nearly arrived. Ishimaru was moving through the train station with Mukuro, hastily looking around for the train to the destined city within their prefecture. At long last, Ishimaru found the train and got on with Mukuro after handing his ticket to the official when the Soldier did the same. Soon, the train took off through the tunnels with each seated or securely standing passenger.

“Mother, we’ll be there in about half an hour,” Ishimaru said into his cell phone. “We won’t keep you waiting!”

After a few more words said into his phone, Ishimaru hung up. When Mukuro wasn’t looking, Ishimaru saw some newer entries on the Friendship Diary once the calling app was closed out. Some predictions were nothing at all out of the usual, recently-true ones such as "14:58: Chihiro-kun comes over to me with an exam he scored a 100% on. Even my most verbal of congratulations can't express how proud I am of him!" and "13:03: Kyoudai and Kuwata-kun are discussing after-school plans for today. It's a pity I can't join them, but I have an important task to do for my mother!". But below them were recently upgraded predictions like "16:26: Ikusaba-kun becomes acquainted with my mother. She seems to be the 'formal type' around her elders; how respectful of her!", which Ishimaru kept in mind for his impending reunion with his maternal parent. When he noticed Mukuro peering at his Friendship Diary, Ishimaru quickly snapped it closed so as not to alarm her.

"Anything unusual about Oowada-kun and Fujisaki-san's futures?" Mukuro asked with curiosity.

"No, nothing out of the ordinary here!" Ishimaru insisted, sheathing his magic phone. "Just my run-of-the-mill check on my two best friends!"

Mukuro shrugged indifferently at his answer, telling him they'll be arriving at their destination soon. Before either of them knew it, an entire half hour passed when the train stopped at its next station. Ishimaru and Mukuro got off, only to be confronted by a cheerful "Kiyo-kun! Over here!" from a woman appearing in her early-40s. Her lower-back length blue-black hair was down save for two ties on the ends of her side tails, and donned an attire of a dark blue semi-formal blouse, and a black knee-length pencil skirt over black stockings and flat slip ons of the same color. Red dartboard-like eyes behind mascara coated lashes happily looked on at the matching pair belonging to her son, but became intrigued and made her somewhat wrinkled facial skin tighten and clench in squints.

"Hello, Mother," Ishimaru greeted, waving to his mom with a smile. "Is something the matter?"

"Who's your little friend, Kiyotaka-kun?" Ishimaru's mother asked, still looking at Mukuro with intrigue.

"My name is Mukuro Ikusaba, ma'am," Mukuro introduced, bowing forward once and standing stiff. "I am one of your son's classmates at Hope's Peak Academy."

"Oh! So, you're one of those other prestigious students with 'official titles'? What would yours be, Ikusaba-san?"

"I'm the SHSL Soldier, ma'am. I've been specially trained in militarized combat since the age of fourteen."

Ishimaru's mother kept observing Mukuro with that new information in mind. When she was done, she smiled at the younger female and nodded at her son with approval. Ishimaru raised an eyebrow, but thought nothing more of it when his mother saw the time and dragged the two teenagers to her car in the station's parking lot.

"Is everyone buckled in?" Ishimaru's mother asked.

"Yes, we are!" Ishimaru answered once he and Mukuro were strapped in.

"Good! Because we gotta go now!"

Before backing the car out, Ishimaru's mother asked her son and guest if anyone was driving in back to avoid collision. Neither said yes, so the elder woman backed her car out and started driving to the studio. It wasn't long until they arrived at their destination, the Hall Monitor's mother pulling into a parking space and locking her car after all passengers left. They went into the studio together, waiting at the front desk for the lady in charge to turn around.

"Name please?" the front desk lady asked, sorting through a thick folder laid flat.

"Chiyo Ishimaru. I'm here for my five o'clock photo shoot appointment," Ishimaru's mother explained.

"Ah, Ishimaru-san! Yes, go ahead and take a seat. Your photographer will be with you shortly."

Chiyo took a seat in the waiting chairs, her son and his friendly guest sitting next to one another. They saw the time turn to 4:35, so it was only a matter of time before Chiyo's appointment would come. Just then, a simple ringtone went off from Chiyo’s phone, prompting her to answer it the moment she saw who was calling.

“Hi, Ta-kun!” Chiyo chirped with affection to the man on the other line. “Yes, I made it to my appointment. I’m just waiting for them to call me in. How are things at work?” More words were said into her ear as a response, prompting her eyebrows to crease inwards slightly. “Oh, okay. I hope you get somewhere soon. I’ll see you later, love you!” she said, hanging up the phone.

“What did Father want?” Ishimaru asked his mother.

“Oh, he just called to make sure I got to my appointment,” Chiyo answered her son. “But, your father seems to be having trouble with a recent custody criminal. Apparently, they’re more dangerous than they let on, but no one’s buying it.”

“They must be awfully deceptive,” Mukuro commented.

“It seems so, Ikusaba-san,” Chiyo replied, looking at the clock and continuing to await her name.

* * *

 In the photography room, Komaeda was positioning himself in specific poses under the photographer’s somewhat snippy instruction. It was a bit of a tight switch from movement to movement, but Komaeda was at last able to maintain a pose with one leg on the stool. His hand rested firmly on his lap while the other cradled his chin using the knuckle.

"Perfect! Stay right in that position!" the photographer encouraged. "Now, look right into the camera and..."

_CLICK!_

"How does it look?" Komaeda asked.

"Not too bad," the photographer said, looking at the photo in her camera on the tripod. "You've done a good job at attempting to cooperate. Your pictures should come within a week."

"Great! I’ll try and be back for them then!”

Komaeda walked out of the photograph room, leaving the young photographer behind. Once her customer was at last out of sight, the photographer sighed and removed the black SLR Camera from the tripod, skimming through the photos as she headed over to a computer room in back. Sitting down at a table supporting her inert spring green laptop, the photographer brushed a lock of bobbed red hair back, letting out a sigh as she looked through her photos.

“I seem to be getting a lot of guy customers this week,” the photographer remarked, looking at the undated pictures of Komaeda. “So boring. They’re never as interesting to take photos of…”

Nonetheless, the button next to the white trash can symbol remained untouched. Just the thought of pressing it seemed to disgust the girl as her olive green eyes furrowed with disgust, trying to get it out of her head. Once she moved on from it, the photographer pressed the button with the up arrow on the back of her SLR Camera to look at more photos. However, these ones were different. Even after all this time of receiving them, the photographer still trembled just thinking about how her greatest mystery took its course after that strange night.

* * *

  _"A Future Diary...?" she wondered that day following, observing her Diary absentmindedly. "And that 'Survival Game' he was talking about..."_

_“Mahiru-chan!” a boisterous voice called from behind her friend._

_Mahiru turned around to see her friend, the SHSL Light Music Club Member, Ibuki Mioda. Ibuki was merely being her loudly perky self, but her face fell noticeably worried when she saw Mahiru was sullenly distracted while looking at her camera. Ibuki’s lower lip pursed up into a pout, beady pink eyes blinking with concern as Mahiru._

_“Aww, why’s Ibuki’s best friend in the whole world so sad?” Ibuki asked. “What’s been eating you?”_

_“Nothing, Ibuki-chan,” Mahiru lied. “I’m just a little tired is all. I couldn’t sleep all too well last night.”_

_“Why not? Ya have a bad dream?”_

_“Eh, sort of… It’s nothing I can tell you about, though.”_

_The redhead was about to keep walking forward on the sidewalk, only for her friend to stop her right in her tracks. Ibuki held a blocking hand out in front of Mahiru, a firm look on her face as she successfully prevented Mahiru from getting away. Ibuki removed the hand from Mahiru’s path, the Photographer giving up on taking another step._

_“Mahiru-chan, you can tell Ibuki about anything!” Ibuki insisted, suddenly hugging her friend. “Don’t ya trust Ibuki?”_

_“Of course I do! Trust me, I can resolve this on my own. I can handle this, Ibuki-chan. I promise.”_

_Ibuki gave Mahiru an unsure look, but decided to put faith in her instead of throwing more salt into the situation. Suddenly, the girl with multiple colors within her thick black hair gasped loudly at recalling something important. Telling Mahiru to follow her, Ibuki rushed down the street, not noticing Mahiru still looking at her Diary while running with her. As the girls stopped in front of a small building, Mahiru’s camera screen flashed black before a brand new assortment of images displayed. The first to appear showed an upset Ibuki whining in front of a music store cashier, the time in the corner reading "15:07", two minutes ahead of the present._

_"Ibuki's gotta get a new pick!" she declared, opening the door. "If she doesn't, then how is Ibuki gonna get started on her new hit single?"_

_"'Buki, wait," Mahiru insisted, grabbing Ibuki by her seifuku's shirt, letting the camera dangle in front of her. "Something tells me they don't have what you're looking for. I think they might be sold out or something."_

_"Nonsense, Mahiru-chan! Ibuki just knows her trusty new pick's in there screaming her name! And when Ibuki gets it, 'Great Party Last Night, But What The Hell Happened' will finally be heard!"_

_Without allowing Mahiru anymore words, Ibuki rushed in for her coveted guitar pick. Mahiru watched the incoherent scene from outside, round olive green eyes witnessing Ibuki's dismay when the words "Sold out" were read from the clerk's lips. Ibuki tossed her head upwards and whined with disappointment to the heavens, the sound loud enough to be heard from the outside and make the clerk clutch his ears until the Light Music Club Member left. Huffing and pouting, Ibuki came out with folded arms as Mahiru looked at her SLR Camera's exact photo of the scene to confirm its power. She looked through another picture taking place ten minutes from then, only to gasp with fear and horror at what she saw._

_"Huh-rumph!" Ibuki loudly pouted, "Now where's Ibuki supposed to get her new pick?" She then noticed Mahiru bolting off in the other direction. "Mahiru-chan! Where are you going?!"_

_"I have to find Hiyoko-chan!" Mahiru called back, "Her life depends on it!"_

_Not looking back, Mahiru zipped down the street, making several twists and turns until she reached the local performing arts studio. Hurrying inside, Mahiru found her way backstage, where her other best friend, Hiyoko Saionji, was in the middle of rehearsing a specific classical dance routine. The tiny blonde dancer was completely unaware of much else, instead snapping and insulting her fellow performers for not doing things right._

_"The show's tonight, idiots!" Saionji snapped, banana-shaped pigtails raising crossly as she shouted. "Unless you **want** to make us look completely stupid, do it like we rehearsed or you're out!"_

_"Yes, Saionji-san..." the other dancers sighed, taking it from the top._

_From above, one of the stage lights wobbled loosely above Saionji. They struggled to cling to their thread-thin failing wire, but alack, it could salvage no longer and stretched to commence snapping its lifeline. Mahiru saw this as expected, running on stage and shoving the busy Saionji aside with her just as the heavy stage light snapped and fell to the stage, creating quite a fissure in the smooth mahogany platform. Saionji fluttered her hazel eyes open to worried murmurs, sputtering when she saw Mahiru on her._

_"Big Sis Koizumi?" Saionji wondered. "What the heck are you doing here before the show? And why are you on me!"_

_"See for yourself," Mahiru answered, pointing backwards with her thumb to the damaged stage light lodged in the stage, making Saionji gasp with shock._

_"I almost got squished!" Saionji declared with fear that quickly turned into gratitude as she hugged Mahiru tightly. "Big Sis is my hero! I can't thank you enough, Mahiru!"_

_Mahiru laughed with relief, helping Saionji up onto her feet as she dusted off her olive-brown jumper and checkered necktie. She looked at her Diary, watching the image of Saionji lying motionless on the stage after the cumbersome stage light made contact with her profusely bleeding head disappear in a blackened flash. In its re-materialized place was a 15:17 picture of Saionji hugging her from the front, completely safe and sound. Mahiru bid Saionji a temporary goodbye, promising to come back for the show. As Saionji started angrily snapping at her co-workers, demanding the "brainless thick-headed flea" who nearly killed her to step forward, happily threatening to return the favor by squishing them back, Mahiru sighed with relief as she left the building while staring at her camera._

_"Photo Diary, you and I are gonna get along just fine," Mahiru said to her camera with a satisfied smile. "As long as you don't break, I've got this weird Survival Game in the bag!"_

* * *

 Mahiru regained focus, the Photo Diary flashing off and on as new pictures from the future came up. One of them would occur in less than eight minutes, depicting a woman with long black hair and piercing red eyes reaching a hand out to shake. But, others depicted a boy no younger than Mahiru than a year eyeing the camera with a mysterious girl the same age. Another picture for 17:12 showed the boy observing his cell phone with a startled expression, bringing all sorts of hunches to Mahiru.

"Those phones, are they...?" Mahiru wondered before scoffing and laughing. "No no, I can't just assume! ...But, I might just have to keep a little eye on them to be sure. You never know who could be just like me..."

Stepping outside of the computer room, Mahiru went through the long, carpet-covered halls until she reached the front foyer. She took out a clipboard as she approached the woman in her future photos.

"Chiyo Ishimaru?" Mahiru called, reading the next name on the clipboard that lacked a check mark.

"Yes, I'm right here!" Chiyo exclaimed, waving her hand and getting up from her seat with her purse hanging from her shoulder. “You must be that new intern girl. And may I just say how adorable you look!”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Mahiru giggled, flattered. “I’m Mahiru Koizumi. I actually used to go to Hope’s Peak Academy as the SHSL Photographer! Come this way, and I’ll get the photo shoot started.”

Chiyo waved bye to Ishimaru and Mukuro, who both received a suspicious look from Mahiru when she walked away with the Hall Monitor’s mother. As if on cue, Ishimaru’s Friendship Diary signaled a loud interference, prompting him to open his phone and read the new predictions nervously. All were centered around Mukuro, but one new entry in particular read “17:29: Ikusaba-kun jumps in to save me from Eighth after I get attacked. Why are all of these Diary Holders always going after me first?!”.

“Umm, Ikusaba-kun?” Ishimaru said to the girl next to him nervously.

“What is it, Ishimaru-kun?” Mukuro asked. “Are you in pain?”

“Not yet… I think there might be another Diary Holder nearby.”

“Really? Who is it?”

“The girl who just made off with your guy-friend’s mother,” Komaeda answered, approaching the two and startling Ishimaru.

“Komaeda-kun, what are you doing here?” Mukuro asked calmly, not showing any signs of being startled.

“Just getting some headshots done. Not that I’d burden anyone with my atrocious self, but anyways! I’m just saying you should be careful about Koizumi-san.”

“Why? Is she the Eighth?” Ishimaru asked with worry.

“I’m not telling exactly,” Komaeda chuckled slyly. “All I’m saying is you might want to watch out for her in case you interact. She could be trouble~."

Not another word was said from Komaeda when he walked further into the studios halls, looking back at Ishimaru and Mukuro with a secretive smirk. As for the leading two Diary Holders, they quickly got up and went down the other hall where Chiyo and Mahiru walked, Ishimaru being more than worried about the sake of his mother in the hands of a potentially dangerous redhead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Godly Alignment: Koizumi Mahiru = Artemis/Diana (both have a much higher opinion on females than males, plus they're both very assertive). I could go on and on about the only Olympian I'd ever let boss me around for all eternity, but I'll spare you the details. Just know that the best SDR2 girl should be the most fitting for the greatest Greek Olympian ever known! ♥
> 
> (Also, I've gotten some guesses for Lady Artemis. I'm surprised none of you said Mahiru lol)


	16. Day 16 Part 2: Fight To The Photo Finish!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> Zeke: True! 'Hiru needs more love, though some people just call her a "man-hating bitch" (which she's neither of; she just has high expectations for men for a good reason). And honestly, they need to just stop their idiotic prattle. PS, I still can't give away any Diary Holders, so your guesses have chances of being wrong too.
> 
> novaKnight_Rahxbi (big sis): Whoops.

“Wonderful posing, Ishimaru-san!” Mahiru beamed at Chiyo after snapping another perfect pose. “Now, just step over in front of the screen and sit in the chair.”

Chiyo went over to the chair and sat down upright, following Mahiru’s specific instructions. She put her hands specifically on the center of her kneecaps, facing the camera and turning her neck as a certain angle. Cervical muscles in the woman’s neck started to strain from the stiff position, but immediately relaxed when a camera shutter went off after Mahiru pressed a button from behind the camera.

“Great job!” Mahiru encouraged happily. “That photo came out great. Now, we just need one more photo and you can move onto your outdoor photos.”

Mahiru told Chiyo to go over by the floor near the other screen and kneel firmly on her knees. The older woman put her hands gingerly atop her kneecaps, straightening up as much as she could until she was as stiff as a surfboard. Smiling and making direct contact with the black SLR Camera on the tripod, Chiyo was finally able to relax when she heard the camera’s shutter go off. Chiyo pushed herself up, shaky from stiffness like a newborn fawn, and grabbed her purse as she thanked Mahiru for taking the pictures.

“Oh, and if it’s alright, I’d like to ask a little favor,” Chiyo said.

“Sure, what is it?” Mahiru asked.

“Would you mind getting in a few pictures of my son Kiyotaka? It’s been awhile since we’ve gotten school photos of him. He was the red-eyed boy sitting next to me earlier.”

“Oh… yeah, I guess I could take some pictures of your son,” Mahiru sighed, reluctant to take more male photos. “I’ll even give you a discount if you want.”

“Thank you, Koizumi-san! Kiyotaka and Ikusaba-san should be right outside!”

When Mahiru and Chiyo got back to the waiting seats, the latter was shocked to see her son and his guest gone. They walked further down the hall to spot them, only succeeding in doing so when Ishimaru and Mukuro collided into them harshly. Chiyo was more than happy to have found them, but Mahiru was alarmed when her Photo Diary went black for a split second until pictures from the future made their debut on the screen in back.

First, one photo dated a minute before half-past five showed Mukuro about to charge at Mahiru in the first-person perspective while an injured Ishimaru witnesses. Then, a second photo reading a green “17:36” in the same lower right corner as before showed the women’s bathroom with the lights off, within it a soaked Mukuro (whose pupils were bright scarlet, much to Mahiru’s dismay) seeing something horrific. But, the very last photo in the assortment shocked Mahiru, who was forced to look at nothing but Ishimaru and Mukuro glaring sternly at her perspective with furrowed brows through a cracked and damaged screen, the time labelled “17:52” above a green “DEAD END” in digital font.

 _“So, you two really are Diary Holders,”_ Mahiru pondered mentally, shooting glares at both Ishimaru and Mukuro. _“I’d better ‘edit them out of the picture’ before they get me first.”_

“Kiyo-kun, look sharp for your pictures!” Chiyo told her son as he hesitantly straightened up and dusted off his white uniform and armband. “Now, which way to my outdoor photo shoot?”

“Keep going down that hall and take a right,” Mahiru explained in a friendly tone as she grabbed Ishimaru by the arm. “And don’t worry, I’ll take _excellent_ care of your son, ma’am…” she half-promised, her tone getting somewhat dark.

“Great! I can’t wait to see how they come out!” Chiyo beamed, scrunching Ishimaru’s cheeks and giving him a kiss on the forehead. “Look sharp, Kiyotaka!"

“Mother, wait, I--” Ishimaru objected, failing to stop his mother from leaving to her next shoot. “Oh, great…” he sighed in paranoia as Mahiru started dragging him down the hall to the left.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right by you, Ishimaru-kun,” Mukuro promised, starting to follow Ishimaru until Mahiru stopped her.

“Sorry, Miss, but one customer per room unless appointed otherwise,” Mahiru said, continuing to walk with Ishimaru. “Now, come on, _Ishimaru_. Let’s get those photos of yours taken!”

Mahiru masked the boredom in her voice at the thought of having to take another boy’s photo. Luckily for her, that was just a lie told to her future victim’s mother so she wouldn’t have to take any action to protect her son. Unbeknownst to her, Mukuro was camouflaged along the walls thanks to a nearby can of wall paint and sneaking along the sidelines to where Ishimaru and Mahiru were going.

Soon, the Photographer led Ishimaru to a dimly-lit photo room, where she shut and locked the door shut. Her Photo Diary was still attached firmly to its lanyard, dangling from her neck and making slight bumps against her torso. Ishimaru looked at her go over to a table carrying a bunch of supplies, among them a cup of measuring and makeup gear.

“Just sit still, and you’ll be done sooner before you know it,” Mahiru told Ishimaru, frisking through the cup of styling supplies.

“Koizumi-kun, shouldn’t you be over here--” Ishimaru was about to say.

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m doing something! Geez, guys really don’t have manners, do they?”

Obedient and stiff, Ishimaru eyed Mahiru nervously, taking note of her every move. That gaze quickly became infected by fear when Mahiru took from the cup an extremely sharp pair of scissors, lightly skimming a finger across the blade and tip to check for efficiency. She turned to Ishimaru with a bitter and sinister look that lacked any hint of a smile, walking forward as he started to scramble from the seat. Before her victim could leave, however, Mahiru kicked down two heavy standing lights, pinning Ishimaru to the ground and immobilizing him. Making things worse, Mahiru grabbed the terrified Ishimaru and raised the scissors above where his aorta presumably was.

"Guys like you shouldn't be afraid of anything!" Mahiru declared, preparing to lower the scissors into their mortal target. "Stop cowering and take it like a real man!"

All of a sudden, a bombastic explosion fired off from outside, blowing the door and part of the room to smithereens. The blast was powerful enough to send Mahiru flying backwards into damaged gear, the scissors abandoning her hand and dropping blades-first to the shag carpeting. From the smoke came Mukuro, who had a fierce look in her eyes as she leaped forward towards Mahiru. 

"Get away from my friend!" Mukuro unknowingly roared, her foot kicking Mahiru right in the cheek, sending the Photographer face-first into the floor.

 _"My hero..."_ Ishimaru said in his head as Mukuro went over and effortlessly yanked the heavyweight lighting equipment off his body, pulling him up onto his feet.

"Ugh, typical," Mahiru growled, gripping her bleeding mouth and cracked nose. "You can't even be a man and protect _yourself_ from a threat! Keep relying on someone else to do your dirty work, and you'll be the next out of the Survival Game!"

The scissor blades gripped safely in her hand, Mahiru ran out another exit as Mukuro and Ishimaru gave chase. Holding the Photo Diary close to her with her weapon, Mahiru turned a corner and shrouded herself past a group of customers, making Ishimaru and Mukuro lose sight of her for a bit. Mahiru took this opportunity to find a security office and sneak in, where she spotted a box of functional tasers. In front of her selected item, though, was a security guard who quickly noticed Mahiru.

"Miss, you can't be in here!" they exclaimed, about to apprehend the red-haired intruder with freckles.

Mahiru thought quickly, kicking the guard in the stomach and stunning them for the time being. As the guard gripped their pained stomach, they tried using brutal force to detain Mahiru, who acted quicker than they did by picking up the chair and swinging it at them. When they fell to the ground, Mahiru held them pinned and pointed the open scissor blade to their neck.

“Nothing personal,” she breathed sinisterly, gripping the safe end of the scissors tightly as the guard continued to plead and squirm, “just can’t have you getting in the way.”

In one swift swipe, Mahiru yanked the scissor blade across the fragile flesh, severing the barrier between flesh and vein. Streams of blood were set free from the throat of the choking and writhing security guard, continuing to spill and spurt onto the floor and sections of Mahiru’s jumper after its former host stopped moving forever. The guard’s hand went limp in unison with their heart, their killer standing up and walking past them to grab a deactivated taser and leaving quickly with it concealed in her jumper after dropping the scissors in the pool of blood.

Outside of the security office, Mahiru closed the door and looked left and right for Ishimaru and Mukuro. When she saw no sign of them, she smirked and ran towards the janitor’s office, leaving spots of blood behind her from stepping in the blood puddle. Thankfully, no one was in there, so it saved Mahiru the trouble of having to silence someone by taking their life. She went right inside and grabbed a bucket, leaving with it and running to find the nearest bathroom. When she did, Mahiru switched the lights right off after she made sure she was the only one occupying it.

* * *

Elsewhere in the studio, Ishimaru and Mukuro kept searching for their opponent when the former’s Friendship Diary updated to add two more predictions. The first one was helpful, informing Ishimaru “17:38: Ikusaba-kun discovers Eighth in the dark women’s restroom across from the janitor’s closet. I shan’t intrude there again, but I’ll stay closeby just in case!”, but the second one brought dread to him. It said “17:40: Eighth dumps water on Ikusaba-kun and electrocutes her, killing her instantly. I should have been in there to help her! It’s all my fault she died!”. The moment Mukuro went down the hallway towards the exact spot she was expected to, Ishimaru immediately followed in a panic.

“Bloody footprints,” Mukuro pointed out, looking down at the faded red path from the security office to the janitor’s office and women’s bathroom. “They’re most likely Eighth’s.”

“Ikusaba-kun, wait!” Ishimaru objected, grabbing her wrist. “Perhaps you should take extra precautions before going inside! A-After all, your Tactics Diary is a last-minute prophet! It could be too late if you aren’t careful!”

“And careful I shall be, Ishimaru-kun,” Mukuro assured him, unsheathing her Fenrir knife. “Stay close. I’ll defeat Eighth quickly.”

Mukuro opened the door with a painted hand, carefully creeping into the lightless bathroom as Ishimaru quietly followed behind with inner shame. The Soldier’s Tactics Diary updated its future, and when its owner checked the mildly lit screen, she was more than alarmed. She received a prediction stating “17:40: Eighth douses me with sink water and strikes me with a taser. DEAD END”.

“How?!” the SHSL Soldier gasped, staring at the open phone’s message, “Where could she--”

All of a sudden, Mukuro felt a literal splash of cold sink water fall upon her head from one of the stalls, dripping to a point where she couldn’t see all too well. The paint that was once on her mustn’t have been too expensive, evidenced by how easily it washed off of Mukuro and made a colored puddle on the floor. Squinting, Mukuro blindly felt around the bathroom, getting closer to the sound of a stall door opening and the crackling of electricity. Mahiru approached the waterlogged Soldier with a menacing smirk, holding the activated taser in front of her as she got even closer while Mukuro wiped the water from her eyes with her hand not carrying the surprisingly safe Tactics Diary.

“Game over, Ikusaba-chan!” Mahiru shouted, charging towards Mukuro as the Soldier just regained sight. “Now, _DIE_!”

“NO!” Ishimaru exclaimed, following the voice and dim cell phone light to where the two girls were.

Mahiru thrust the taser’s high amperage out. But because of Ishimaru’s actions, the taser hit his middle abdomen instead of Mukuro’s, sending volts of electricity through his screaming body. Mukuro felt around the wall for the switch, flipping it right on and seeing Ishimaru on the floor without consciousness. The future in her Tactics Diary changed, now saying “17:40: Eighth tried to kill me with a taser. Ishimaru-kun defends me by taking the attack for me and using his body as a living shield”, which brought a great surprise and horror to her. Thankfully, Ishimaru was still breathing, so it spared the girl of feeling too much internal turmoil.

“About time you finally protected a girl like you’re supposed to,” Mahiru remarked. “Maybe you’re not all bad, but I’m still gonna destroy you both!”

Mahiru ran straight out the door, Mukuro only running after her when she slung the hardly-conscious Ishimaru over her shoulder. She put the Tactics Diary back in her shirt pocket, now using the free hand to try and make Ishimaru wake up faster. But alas, her attempts were futile; the Hall Monitor wasn’t any more conscious than he was from the shock to the abdomen.

The SHSL Photographer kept running until she found refuge in an empty photo room, shutting the door behind her and panting to catch her breath. She looked at her Photo Diary, which updated during her run and showed a new future picture. This one was dated with the current time of “17:46” and depicted a mysterious silhouette with wild hair in the far corner. Looking up, Mahiru got nervous until she saw it was just Komaeda again.

“Didn’t you leave already?” she asked with a roll of green eyes.

“Not really, no,” Komaeda answered, chuckling without any genuine emotion. “But, my luck has led me to just the person I wanted to see.” He got closer to Mahiru, eyes becomes slightly more crazed as a wide smile opened his lips. “And what better person than the feisty Eighth?”

“Eighth?! How did you know I’m--” Mahiru gasped, backing away until she was near a closet.

“An easy answer, but I think I’ll spare you the details. After all, there’s quite a bit you don’t know of me. Just know this: I'm not your typical everyday being."

Komaeda grabbed the orange strap around Mahiru’s torso connected to the black Photo Diary, tugging it through her jumper strap and tying it in a knot to the closet door knob. When the knot was tight enough, Komaeda let go and backed away from the struggling and furious Mahiru. No matter how hard she tried to move, the knot was tied tight and prevented her from escaping, which she ignored and kept trying to fight.

“What’s your problem?!” Mahiru screeched, still fighting with the door. “I’m stuck!”

“Exactly what I wanted to happen,” Komaeda replied, smirking. “Now, I trust Fifth and Sixth should be able to have their way with you easier.”

“Fifth and-- you little! Now I’m dead for sure! Just who are you really, Komaeda?”

“I'm afraid the furthest I'll go without sounding alien is telling you my name is Nagito Komaeda. You need to know only that, and the fact that I do only the bidding of my God. No one else matters to me~!”

Mahiru kept tugging and fussing at her wooden captor, screaming with scared frustration as Komaeda walked away without any remorse to his doing, instead looking back with a smirk. Down the hall, he met up with Mukuro and Ishimaru, the latter whom was starting to regain full consciousness as the former held him up like a human crutch. Ishimaru fluttered his eyes open and shakily stood up, more than relieved to see Mukuro was okay.

“I thought you two might like to know where Koizumi-san went,” Komaeda said, pointing towards the room where she was tied up. “Just go right down that hall and you’ll have your little victory.”

“Umm, thank you, Komaeda-kun,” Mukuro responded, somewhat hesitant. “Ishimaru-kun, let’s get going.”

Ishimaru followed Mukuro groggily, still disoriented from getting shocked earlier. Knife drawn in Mukuro's hand, they arrived at the designated room to see Mahiru, who looked up at them in horror as she kept pulling the lanyard fruitlessly. A callous Mukuro approached Mahiru with a stone cold look in her eye, raising her Fenrir blade above her target. When Mahiru saw this, she stopped struggling and closed her eyes shut, awaiting a painful stab to the body. Instead of what Mahiru expected, what came next for her was Mukuro jabbing the blade through the SLR Camera's lens until it stopped midway through the Photo Diary and was yanked out by its owner. Opening her eyes, Mahiru saw no wound was inflicted, but horror turned to defeat when she saw Mukuro had broken her Diary.

"Looks like it's all over for me now," Mahiru sighed, looking straight at the stern looks of her conquerors. "Before I fade, Fifth... make sure you're not always having to save Sixth's skin." Mahiru's body started twisting sideways while her voice distorted and shook. "It's a man's job... to protect a girl in her time of need..."

Mahiru's entire being twisted until it was barely recognizable. Finally, she disappeared from existence in a vortex, leaving behind her broken Photo Diary. Ishimaru sighed wistfully at the sight, while Mukuro started walking off with a strong face, unfazed by the act of killing a threat itself.

* * *

They made it back to the lobby, where Ishimaru's mother sat cross-legged and patient. Chiyo seemed to have anticipation in her deep crimson eyes, obviously wondering about her son's photos. Little did she know, so much went on in her absence.

"So, how'd it go?" Chiyo asked Ishimaru.

"Oh, umm... my photo shoot went wonderfully!" Ishimaru lied. "You should be getting the pictures back... eventually."

"Why 'eventually'?" Chiyo demanded to know, irritated in her tone.

"Technical difficulties with the system," Mukuro fibbed nonchalantly. "It could be a while before it's all fixed."

Chiyo sighed, slinging her purse over her shoulder and exiting the premises with the two teenagers. In her car, she made sure everyone was buckled in safely before driving off. During the drive, Mukuro got Ishimaru's attention by gripping his wrist. The Hall Monitor winced at the Soldier's impressive strength, but got her to let go when he looked at her.

"What is it?" Ishimaru asked, rubbing his aching wrist.

"...Don't ever do that again," Mukuro told him, her voice surprisingly pleading instead of forceful.

"Don't do what?"

"You recklessly put yourself in danger back in the bathroom. You could have died!"

"Yes, I'm perfectly aware of that, Ikusaba-kun. But, I couldn't just let you reach a Dead End because I didn't step in to help!"

"But I don't ever want you trying to throw your life out because I wasn't careful. If you were to die for such a dumb reason, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. _Ever_."

"Ikusaba-kun, please understand that people do otherwise reckless things to protect those they care about. Even if I got hurt doing so, I’d have much rather gotten tased than watch you take the blow! Besides, it doesn’t even hurt anymore!” Ishimaru insisted with a smile.

The Hall Monitor’s intentionally assuring smile didn’t make Mukuro feel any better, which made the facial remark fade from his lips. Ishimaru now felt upset and worried for Mukuro, only thinking to reach his hand out to hers, his touch gentler than a newborn rabbit. He gripped it ever so slightly, giving her his warmest of looks as she looked back at him.

“If, for some reason, something _does_ happen to me, I want you to promise me something,” Ishimaru said.

“What?” Mukuro asked softly.

“Promise you won’t keep blaming yourself for it. Just remember that my only reason for doing so was to protect someone that deserves more than anything to be alive. I know we just started becoming more friendly with each other, but I care about you so much already, Ikusaba-kun! We’re friends!”

“Wait, Ishimaru-kun, remember what I said--”

“--I do, but I also recall what you shouted when you saved me back at the studio. Didn’t you say something along the lines of ‘get away from my friend’?”

Mukuro tried to object, until she realized she’d said that word for word without even realizing it. Gulping, the Soldier felt all kinds of mixed emotions within her, unable to quite process the thoughts in her head. Ishimaru reached into his pocket, pulled out his Friendship Diary, and showed Mukuro his most recent predictions. Word for word, Mukuro read some that said “17:40: Ikusaba-kun is safe and sound now that I’ve guarded her from that attack. Can’t say the same thing about myself, however…”, “17:52: Ikusaba-kun eliminates Koizumi-kun by destroying her Diary. Looks like another one bites the dust, as they say!”, and “17:59: Ikusaba-kun’s clearly worried about my little stunt back in the women’s room. I have to try and cheer her up somehow!”. Blinking her steel blue eyes open and shut, Mukuro let a bead of sweat roll down the side of her face as she looked back at Ishimaru, who closed the phone with a closed smile to his own features.

“Ever since we started getting to know each other on Wednesday, my Friendship Diary has started telling me about you as well!” Ishimaru beamed. “If that isn’t another official proof of friendship, then I don’t know what is!”

Sighing, Mukuro hadn't a choice but to officially accept Ishimaru's offer of platonic unity. The car they were in continued to move through the roads as Ishimaru and Mukuro started picking up on a friendly conversation, hopefully to take their minds off the Survival Game for now. With each word uttered and spoken, the two seemed to grow even more acquainted with each other than before.


	17. Day 19: A Bond Grows Stronger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses are... good!
> 
> novaKnight_Rahxbi: Yeah, poor girl. Oh well, t'is fate. Or should I said t'is "F-EIGHT"?
> 
> Zeke: I don't really count Nanami, but I guess she does count because she fought Ishimaru. And you'll see what the deal with Komaeda (who's a bit like Akise Aru in my opinion) and the others in the Godly Realm in the future! Lastly, the only way this ship will go is forward~ ♥

"And thus perishes another egotistical Diary Holder," Kamukura sighed at his throne, looking up at the red "DEAD END" encircling where Mahiru would once stand. "At least I'm one step closer closer to being rid of this boring godhood..."

"Only you would put the words 'godhood' and ‘boring’ in the same sentence," Junko sighed. "Maybe I should've re-entered the Game to replace ya! At least it'd be a win-win; you'd be stripped of your title, and I'd be the Goddess of Time & Space!"

"Oh right, like I'd ever let _you_ take my throne, Junko. What the hell do you think I was trying to _prevent_ in the last Survival Game?"

Junko merely laughed at Kamukura's words, floating up to his larger-than-life head and inspecting the black hair styled in two braids sagging down his chest. She plucked a few loose strands and smoothed others down, folding her hands and looking at Kamukura with an affectionate expression. When she went back to the shiny violet floor beneath Kamukura's throne, Junko saw another being enter the room, her face wrinkling with revulsion at who it was.

"Ugh, Komaeda's back, boss!" Junko called from below, striding off elsewhere. "Call me when the riff-raff's out again."

"Adieu, Second," Komaeda said to the departing Junko, who ignored him completely. He then turned attention to Kamukura and smiled with a fluttering heart before noticing something about him. "Izuru-sama, did you do something with your hair? It looks just as divine as you are."

"I didn't, but Junko did," Kamukura answered, cheeks turning somewhat pink before turning away from Komaeda with suppressed conflict. "Status report?" he asked dully.

"Everything went well in Fifth and Sixth's last duel. Though, I apologize for going overboard with the meddling, my dearest Lord."

"I don't care anymore," Kamukura said with apathy. "You made things go faster by trapping Eighth. But, you could have stopped Fifth from blowing a hole in the studio with explosives."

"I suppose I could have. Leave it to someone who's even below a worm compost to mess that up. If you'll give me the chance, I'd like to improve on my next observation of Fifth and Sixth."

"You're my only Observer and you haven't royally screwed up yet, so you're not finished until one Diary Holder remains. Also, I'm sending you to observe someone else for now. Fifth and Sixth don't seem like they're gonna do anything stupid down the road at the moment."

"Who else am I looking after?"

Kamukura gave Komaeda the Survival Game numerical code name and image. The boy with the sickly physique nodded and was sent off by Kamukura with a "good luck". When Komaeda was gone, Kamukura conjured his old Inference Diary, flipped it open, and pressed upwards through predictions before reaching a specific entry dated the day preceding his ultimate victory. After all this time, it still read the same tragic words describing what the God had done, and still made Kamukura feel as horrible now as it had then. Closing his cell phone, Kamukura made it disappear before cushioning his cheek in his palm as he leaned sideways in his throne as Junko returned.

“You know he’ll never replace him, right?” she had the gall to ask with a smirk. “Why make him look identical as if he’s some kind of replacement goldfish?”

“Don’t you have something better to do than bother me again, Junko?” Kamukura asked, apathy slowly coming back and trying to push sorrow under the surface. “I’m not in the mood right now.”

“Gee, I’m surprised you’re in _any_ mood. Just get over it; what’s done is done, and there ain’t nothin’ you can do about it! With or without godhood!”

"I shouldn't have expected anything less from you. Especially since you're the type who sees people as nothing more than future despair-fueling carnage with no sentimental value. Even if it's Mats--"

"Oi! Don't even go there!" Junko suddenly snapped with anger, pointing a manicured finger at Kamukura with furrowed brows. "He was a... 'special treat', so he actually held plenty of value," she purred, masking any negative or mixed emotions.

"Sure didn't seem like it," Kamukura scoffed, turning away with indifference. "You never change, Junko..."

Rolling her vivid baby blue eyes, Junko conjured a little futon right below and laid atop the soft surface. She looked up at Kamukura, who viewed his giant screen without feeling in his eyes. Junko scoffed at her master, closing her own eyes and dozing off for the indefinite time being.

* * *

 An entire weekend had passed and made dawn of the new Monday. It was only five minutes before homeroom was to begin, and already Ishimaru’s Friendship Diary was full of different predictions on his friends. One entry said “08:16: Kyoudai comes in late for class again and is given detention. He doesn’t seem to care much at this point…” right below “08:09: Chihiro-kun has a case of the sniffles. His loyalty to class is remarkable, but he really ought to put his health first too!”. Among the set of Diary predictions were two that said “08:11: Ikusaba-kun raises her hand in class and correctly answers the question. Kudos to her for class participation!” and “08:55: Ikusaba-kun waits for me after class to leave. She asks me if she's doing something right, but I haven't a clue what she means.”. Ishimaru looked back at the punctual Mukuro, who was studying from her textbook with an idle straight face and paying no heed to anything else. Ishimaru smiled at the sight of his new friend, closing his Friendship Diary and organizing his things for class.

Over the course of a few minutes, class had started. When Ishimaru saw a weary Chihiro sniffling up and trying to keep a heavy head stable, he reached into his bag and gave him a packet of tissues. Chihiro accepted the tissues and sniffled back more nasal mucus, taking one out and sneezing into it before blowing his nose.

“Can someone answer number four from last night’s assignment for us?” the teacher asked, picking a hand raised that for once wasn't Ishimaru's. “Ikusaba-san?”

“2x squared-x+8,” Mukuro answered calmly, presenting her answer without much emotion.

“Perfect! Okay, onto question five… Ishimaru-kun.”

“The answer is 5x squared+x+13,” Ishimaru stated.

“Also correct! And now, question six…”

The teacher went on to continue the review of the homework by calling on newer volunteers. Ishimaru saw two of his predictions came true, smiling at Chihiro and Mukuro alike. Only Mukuro noticed and turned her head to her comrade, blinking innocently once before turning back to the front. Ishimaru looked at the clock as a few more minutes passed, seeing he had less than a minute until Mondo was due to arrive. When those remaining seconds passed, the SHSL Gang Leader came into class without much care, getting caught by the teacher automatically.

“This is the fourth time you’ve been late, Oowada-kun,” the teacher said, writing something on a stack of sticky notes. “Three hours detention after classes are done.”

“Tch, whatever…” Mondo scoffed, crumpling the note up before taking his seat.

Ishimaru remembered his other prediction about the situation that just occurred, looking at Mondo with no surprise despite his disappointment at the delinquent’s usual indifference to academic punishment. Sighing, Ishimaru continued to listen to the lecture, taking out his notebook and inscribing notes onto the paper.

After class finally ended, everyone began making their way towards the door with their belongings, the exception being the packing Ishimaru and the patient Mukuro. Ishimaru put his notebook, utensils, and binder back into the satchel, rising from his seat and pushing the chair in neatly. When he started to leave, Mukuro quickly caught up with him and left at the same time he did. As expected because of his Friendship Diary’s notification, Ishimaru noticed how uneasy and stiff Mukuro looked when walking beside him. She kept looking at him and almost reaching her arms out to grab something on him, but always drawing back before the action was consummated.

“Am I doing this correctly?” Mukuro asked Ishimaru with wrinkled lips.

“Doing what, Ikusaba-kun?” Ishimaru questioned back.

“Since we’re officially comrades, I want to make sure I’m walking alongside you properly.”

“But haven't you been walking with me since our alliance started?”

“Yes, but that was before we forged our friendship. Now, I want to know all the correct procedures for being your friend.”

“But, Ikusaba-kun, there aren’t--”

Ishimaru failed to finish what he intended to say when they both spotted three students walking out of a classroom with items hidden under their shirts. Ishimaru quickly went over to them with a loud “HEY!” from his throat, pointing and apprehending the suspicious students.

“Just _what_ do you three think you're doing?!” Ishimaru snapped, arms folded tightly. “Return those stolen supplies this instant!”

“Ha, you and what army, Brows?” one of the thieves taunted.

“Yeah, at best you can just give us a shitty detention!” another cackled.

“Guys, it looks like he ain’t got no army!” the third joined in with a stupid-sounding derisive tone, “He can’t do anything--”

Just then, the taunting thief felt someone grip his shoulder painfully tight. Startled, they shakily turned around, only to stare deep into the frighteningly frigid gaze of Mukuro Ikusaba. Emotionless, hardened eyes like something out of a horror scene glared, their owner tightening her grip on the ne’er-do-well.

“His army is me,” Mukuro hissed, no warmth even in her words. “Now, you three are going to comply and face your punishment, or I’ll see to it you do myself. And if I were you guys, I’d go with the easier route. Are we clear?”

“Y-Yeah, more than clear! J-Just don’t kill us!” the thieves whimpered as Mukuro took her hand off of one of them.

Ishimaru was surprised, nonetheless taking out his stack of detention slips and issuing written ones to each perpetrator. Under Mukuro’s fearsome gaze, the thieves returned the stolen goods to the classroom and hightailed it out of there, hoping to get as far away from the SHSL Soldier as possible. When they were gone, Mukuro’s eyes reverted to their stoic state, looking at Ishimaru for approval.

“Was that good?” she asked. “I helped you punish those hooligans.”

“Yes, I’d say your assistance was splendid!” Ishimaru praised. “Unexpected as it was, that’s the quickest I’ve gotten a troublemaker to comply with authority! I can’t thank you enough, Ikusaba-kun!”

Mukuro smiled at Ishimaru’s encouraging words, feeling rather proud of herself. The curious Hall Monitor took his Friendship Diary out. Among the set of entries he’d received earlier, he discovered he hadn’t read one saying “09:01: Ikusaba-kun intimidates three thieves so I can give them detention easier. Quite sudden of her, but I nonetheless appreciate her help!” As they walked through the halls, the Friendship Diary made its traditional loud interference noise, updating with a whole new set of entries about the few friends its owner had.

“Is there anything crucial in my future?” Mukuro asked. “Or perhaps something pertaining to Oowada-kun and Fujisaki-san?”

“According to my Diary, Kyoudai's supposed to ask me to join him in the sauna during lunch,” Ishimaru noted. “Chihiro-kun seems to be expected to have technical difficulties with a program of his, and will also wind up making his own error on it.” Another prediction caught Ishimaru's eye, making him gasp completely appalled. “‘13:47: Kyoudai decides to take a little joyride with the intention of skipping detention. Such an act will not go unpunished under my watch!’?!” Ishimaru gasped. “I’m darn right! Mondo’s not getting away with it!”

“Erm, is there anything crucial regarding me?”

“Hmm, let’s see. It says that a little after one while I'm in the sauna with Kyoudai, you decided to practice your combat skills. You’re also going to beat some kind of record.”

“So, I’ll reach a personal best today. Is that it for now?”

“It seems so. Aside from you meeting up with me after our agendas, there's nothing else.”

Ishimaru closed his Friendship Diary, startling himself when he saw the current time on the back. He realized that he was doomed to be late for his daily prefect duties, something he deemed unforgivable. Scrambling himself straight, Ishimaru started speed-walking towards the correct room, Mukuro following behind without too much knowledge on where her friend was going.

“The Disciplinary Committee will have my head if I’m tardy!” Ishimaru exclaimed with panic, not extending his speed to a run.

When he arrived, Ishimaru was more than relieved to read the time as “09:27” on his phone. He set his stuff down with the mental note to personally scold himself the next time he cuts it close to the time, his attention diverted to Mukuro setting her own belongings in a chair and desk.

“Why are you here, Ikusaba-kun?” Ishimaru questioned. “Is there a concern you have?”

“No, I'm here because I want to help you,” Mukuro corrected.

“Help? Thank you, but you dealing with those purloining students was plenty and appreciated! I don't think I'll need any more today.”

“But I insist! We're friends now, so I want to be of your benefit! Isn't there anything I can do for you?”

“Well… I guess I could use a hand in sorting out this week’s detentions. Is that alright?”

“It’s perfect. I’ll have the task done efficiently and perfectly.”

Ishimaru remarked on how thoughtful Mukuro was being to him, the concept a breath of fresh air compared to when they’d just started fighting other Diary Holders together. Although, the sight of seeing Mukuro hastily accept each detention notice made Ishimaru worry a little, tending to his own duties while they waited for the rest of the Committee to arrive.

* * *

 The meeting for the Disciplinary Committee had been long over by 10 o’clock, so Ishimaru and Mukuro were far past it by 12:45. Both just finished up their previous, yet separate classes, and decided to walk together until Ishimaru was near his destination. Along the way, however, they heard a few anonymous girls walking close to them and talking amongst themselves, the names of the Hall Monitor and Soldier mentioned.

“You think Ishimaru and Ikusaba are dating?” one of them asked her friend.

“Doubt it. One’s an uppity nerd, and the other? Hardly worth looking at!” the other girl laughed.

“Yeah, I mean someone with the title of ‘SHSL _Soldier_ ’ sure as heck isn’t gonna be attractive! I’d bet the only thing Ikusaba puts on her face is all that ugly war paint!”

“But hey, if those two are dating, then love must be blind! A guy with a pole that far up his ass can’t have too high standards!”

“What I’m surprised about is how anyone could stand to be around some psycho girl! I’d bet her way of greeting people is stabbing them first or something!”

“Man, Ikusaba’s crazy as heck then! Someone like that shouldn’t even be allowed in school!”

The quartet of girls laughed cruelly amongst themselves. Being more than used to such comments, Ishimaru couldn’t have cared less about being called names. When he turned to the stone-faced Mukuro, however, he noticed that she was turning her head down towards her chest, letting some air puff out of her nose. Ishimaru figured those last two comments really struck a nerve in the otherwise stoic Soldier. Eyebrows creasing down with anger, he stopped dead in his tracks and stopped the group of girls from walking to their destination.

“Excuse me, but I’m gonna have to ask you to stop this instant,” Ishimaru demanded sternly, catching Mukuro’s attention as she looked at what he was doing. “Your words are incredibly hurtful to my friend!”

“Hurtful? It’s not like that freak next to you actually has feelings!” one girl snorted.

“Exactly, just look at her!” the second girl pointed out, aiming an index finger at Mukuro, who masked her taken umbrage with a phlegmatic exterior. “Her face is practically stuck like that!”

“That’s enough!” Ishimaru snapped, livid. “You’ve never actually gotten to know Ikusaba-kun, so you can't be the judge of who she is! It isn't at all right to make assumptions about someone just because you only see who they are on the outside!”

Although the girls did nothing but laugh at Ishimaru's anger, rolling their eyes without taking him seriously at all, Mukuro was watching the whole thing with wide eyes of surprise. Ishimaru was far too busy glaring at the mean group of girls and telling them off to notice.

“The next time you girls so much as _think_ about slandering another student, you're going to deal with me personally!” Ishimaru hissed as the girls started walking off with annoyance. “From this ‘meaningful’ conversation, Ikusaba-kun is far more human than any of you combined!”

He turned to Mukuro, requesting sternly that she pay no heed to the false words said about her. Both walked towards the second floor for Ishimaru destination, Mukuro still looking at the Hall Monitor with subtlety within surprised joy.

“...I can't say anyone's ever done that for me,” Mukuro uttered.

“I beg your pardon?” Ishimaru asked, not quite hearing her accurately.

“You stood up to those girls for my sake. Because of that, you have my utmost gratitude, Ishimaru-kun.”

“Well, what are friends for? I couldn't just stand there and allow those girls to mistreat you! What they were saying about you was just downright cruel!”

Mukuro smiled at Ishimaru's kindness, familiar, more positive feelings of the past returning. The very recent memory of when he’d defended her made the Soldier feel… unfulfilled, as if something else had to be done. By the time Mukuro's thoughts stopped, she and Ishimaru were approached by Mondo on the second floor of Hope's Peak Academy.

“Taka, just the guy I wanted ta see!” Mondo exclaimed with a grin. “How's a little sauna break sound right now?”

“I was, umm, just about to ask you the same!” Ishimaru lied, keeping his knowledge from his Friendship Diary a secret. “Let’s not waste any time, Kyoudai!”

“Alright…” Mondo turned his attention to Mukuro. “Ikusaba, you don't mind, do ya?”

“Of course not. I was about to head off and do my training anyways. I’ll just see Ishimaru-kun after lunch. Unless there's something else he needs me for.”

“No thanks, Ikusaba-kun. You just go and enjoy your session of fitness!”

“Very well then. You and Oowada-kun have fun with your little ‘guy sauna hour’.”

So as not to violate Ishimaru's personal “no PDA” policy, Mukuro waved her friend goodbye and left him to the hands of his best friend. Ishimaru and Mondo walked down the hall towards the sauna, the former remembering how his Future Diary predicted it perfectly.

“Y’know, you and Ikusaba are spendin’ a lotta time together lately,” Mondo pointed out. “You two seein’ each other or somethin’?”

“Heavens no!” Ishimaru objected. “Dating is nothing more than an academic and moral distraction, and I wouldn't dare subject myself to such a thing! Ikusaba-kun and I are just very good friends is all.”

“If that's how ya wanna put it,” Mondo uttered, finding the first part to be rather unbelievable. “By the way, have you seen Chihiro today? He’s been pretty pissed about one of his programs since this morning and is still fightin’ with it.”

“Is that so?” Ishimaru wondered, recalling that other prediction about Chihiro. “Let's just hope Chihiro-kun doesn't overdo it with the coding again.”

“Yer tellin’ me. Last time he did that, you’d think he was some kinda zombie. That's how tired he looked.”

* * *

 After lunch ended, Mukuro wiped the drops of sweat from her face with a towel, breath streams going in and out of her burning lungs. Checking the stopwatch app on her black cell phone, Mukuro looked at the impressive times she’d stopped for each training exercise. As Ishimaru had told her, each time was a personal best compared to her last session.

Cleaning the excreted residue from her body, Mukuro removed her comfortable workout clothes and exchanged them for her normal ones. Slipping on the knee-length black socks and dark loafers, Mukuro put the Tactics Diary cell phone back in her string bag before making her way to the co-ed locker rooms nearby.

In the sauna, the muscular and mostly-bare duo that was Ishimaru and Mondo were soaking up the last few minutes of heat and steam. Sweat poured from their pores, falling either to the toasty bench or their watery white towels.

“We really ought to be leaving soon,” Ishimaru insisted. “Ikusaba-kun’s probably waiting for me.”

“Yeah, I got shit ta do,” Mondo agreed, getting up while gripping the towel hugging his pelvic region. “I’m gonna let ya get back to yer lady friend.”

“Speaking of Ikusaba-kun, I wonder if she's still so insistent on being my aide.”

“Just remember the advice I gave ya, Kiyotaka. Say she doesn't need ta keep bendin’ over backwards for ya just to be a good friend.”

“Right!” Ishimaru got up, suddenly remembering another entry on his Diary. “By the way, since _I’m_ such a good friend, I’ll ensure you serve your detention today! Don't doubt me for a second.”

“Yeah, we'll see about that, Kyoudai…”

Ishimaru and Mondo exited the sauna room. Tepid steam flowed through the warming air as the two men went to their respective temporary lockers. Unbeknownst to Mondo, the locker Ishimaru was using had the keys to his motorcycle tucked safely in his pants pocket opposite the one safeguarding the Friendship Diary. When the Hall Monitor put his pants on over his underpants, he made sure the keys didn't jingle and alarm Mondo. Both men were fully dressed soon, and Ishimaru bid Mondo farewell when his best friend left. Once alone, Ishimaru smirked to himself as his Diary made its static noise and changed an entry to “13:47: Kyoudai can't find the keys to his Kawasaki, which are in my right pocket. He’ll get them back when his detention is cleared up.”.

“That ought to stop him from ditching another detention,” Ishimaru chuckled, shutting his phone. He was surprised when Mukuro entered the locker room. “Ikusaba-kun! How was your workout, my friend?” he asked her.

“It went well,” Mukuro responded with a light smile. “I trust your sauna time with Oowada-kun was good too?”

“Indeed it was! Nothing like a little time in the sauna to cleanse the pores! Also, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“What is it? Have I done something wrong? If so, then I could atone for it. How can I make it up to you?”

“See, that's the thing. You haven't done anything wrong, but you’re trying to do too much for me.”

“Too much? But I’m only trying to prove I’m a good friend! What, do you want me to do nothing for you? That would make me a horrible excuse of a friend!”

“I’m not saying just abandon me out of the blue. I'm saying you don't have to bend over backwards for me all the time! Friends don't have to do every single thing for each other, Ikusaba-kun. Sometimes just company alone is plenty!”

“I suppose… but aren't friends supposed to have each other's back?”

“Certainly! A wonderful friend always has a good sense of loyalty, but that doesn't mean you have to act like their servant and make them happy all the time at every minute.” He put a hand on Mukuro's slanted shoulder, a look of concern for her deep in his eyes. “All I’m saying is, it doesn't take everything you've got to be a good friend. Even if you're not present every waking hour, the fact that you care enough about someone to try is enough. So please, for both our sakes, take it easy, okay?”

Mukuro looked at Ishimaru, taking in the new information. All this time, the Soldier had the idea of friendship quite wrong, confusing it with something else. Mukuro nodded at Ishimaru, telling him without speech that she understood his words. Smiling, Ishimaru clasped onto Mukuro's hands once as a sign of joy.

“Then we’re well on the road to grow closer as friends!” Ishimaru chirped, releasing Mukuro's hands.

“If that's the case, then should we not start being a little more casual with each other?” Mukuro wondered. “You seem to be on a ‘first-name basis’ with Oowada-kun and Fujisaki-san already.”

“F-First names?!” Ishimaru coughed, flummoxed by the question as if he’d just been asked into a depraved act. “Well… if it will help us become more casual towards each other, then I’m more than willing to give it a shot!” Ishimaru paused, processing his friend’s name and trying to push it off his tongue. “Mu… Muku…ro, Mukuro… kun!” he spat out.

“It's a start. This means I must refer to you as ‘Kiyotaka-kun’, doesn’t it?” Mukuro wondered rhetorically, adjusting her tongue to the new method of addressing.

“It’ll take some getting used to I’ll admit--” Ishimaru started until his phone vibrated to tell him he’d received a text message. “Hold on, I just received a message from my mother.”

Ishimaru opened the text, scarlet target eyes skimming over the words “Hi, Kiyo-kun. Ur father’s still having a rough time @ work. Would u mind visiting him 2morrow after classes plz?”. Yet another request from his mother, which Ishimaru still couldn’t just refuse. Tapping a few buttons, he managed to get out the words “Yes, Mother” and pressing send, receiving a response seconds later saying “Thanks, sweetie! Love u lots! <3 <3 <3”. Sighing at his mother’s awkward skills in text messages, Ishimaru closed the phone and put it back.

“Mother’s asking me to pay Father a visit tomorrow afternoon,” Ishimaru told Mukuro. “Would you like to come with me? It’s a great chance for my father to meet my new friend!”

“I’d love to,” Mukuro answered, smiling once. “I’ll see you then… Kiyotaka-kun.”

“Have a wonderful day, M-Mukuro-kun!” Ishimaru stuttered, still adjusting himself to the first name address.

Mukuro went ahead and left the locker room, Ishimaru in tow and going his own way. He opened his Friendship Diary to look at his predictions, spotting one that said “13:30: Mukuro-kun and I have grown a little closer now that she understands friendship a little better. How nice it feels to have her as a friend!”. Grinning to himself once he realized he’d grown closer to the Soldier, Ishimaru closed his Diary and re-sheathed it, off to continue the rest of his duties for the day.


	18. Day 20: Search And Destroy Once Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> Gamekrazy306: That's up to you. Yeah, it's not as obvious as Komaeda being single-mindedly in love with Izuru, but I decided to just leave it as a ship tease. Although, Izuru and Junko are respectively aligned with Zeus and Hera (while also being the story's respective "Deus ex Machina" and "Murumuru", so it's most likely a little of both!

Tuesday came at last, classes had finished only a mere ten minutes before. Future Diaries secure in their possessions, Ishimaru and Mukuro set out from Hope’s Peak to catch yet another train to Higashiosaka from the Yodoyabashi Station. When they arrived at last, both students were able to hand over their tickets and get on board, the transport vessel taking off after all passengers were securely seated or standing.

“So, what’s your father like, Kiyotaka-kun?” Mukuro asked.

“I’m not gonna lie, Father’s pretty serious and strict,” Ishimaru answered. “However, he’s actually the most respectable person you could meet! You could consider him… my number one role model.”

“Ah, I see. You must really love your dad.”

“What’s your father like, Mukuro-kun? That is, if you don’t mind me asking such a question.”

While not taken aback or bothered by the question, Mukuro really had to think on it. It’d been awhile since she last saw or came in contact with her father, especially considering the timeline she’d come from after stressful events unfolded. The entire thought made her feel bad, the freckled girl making the note to keep in touch again.

“It’s unfortunately been a while since I last contacted him, but my father isn’t bad,” Mukuro answered. “Sure, he might look a bit ‘intimidating’ in the face, but he’s a really sweet guy! I think both our fathers would get along just fine.”

“Is he skilled in combat like you are?”

“Indeed, only he was actually associated with the military and not a mercenary group like his daughter. I guess Dad’s where I got my love of combat and weapons from.” Mukuro hesitated to speak again, thinking about what would happen when she and Ishimaru reached their destination. “Will your father like me?”

“I’m sure you and Father will also get along! I mean, if I’m so drawn to you, then I see no reason why he wouldn’t be!” Ishimaru paused, recalling the last time he introduced a particular friend to his father. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a long history of felonies or crimes, do you, Mukuro-kun?”

“No, my slate’s mostly clean.”

“That’s a relief. At least that's one less thing I have to worry about.”

Now the SHSL Hall Monitor could rest easy. The train continued its course through Osaka, at last stopping at Yodoyabashi Station and opening the doors to release the people inside. Ishimaru and Mukuro pushed a bit through a crowd, making their way into the city. They followed the directions towards the designated building, stopping their walk when they finally arrived right at the official station for the “Apparition Kingdom”. The two students entered the building, approaching the front desk and coming in contact with the person sitting at the front desk. They looked up, recognizing Ishimaru and rolling their eyes somewhat despite him only standing there.

“Here to see your father, Ishimaru?” they asked. “And look, you’ve even brought a guest.”

“Yes, I am,” Ishimaru answered. “Is he available?”

“More or less. Your father is in his office. You know where it is by now, so just go.”

“Thank you!”

Ishimaru shepherded Mukuro down the hallway and up the stairs, coming across a door labelled “Takaaki Ishimaru” in a sharp carving. Before knocking, Ishimaru took a peek at his Friendship Diary, checking in on the new updates he’d received on the train. One specific one read “16:10: Mukuro-kun formally introduces herself to Father. She looks exceptionally nervous meeting him, not that I exactly blame her” above the entry “16:13: Mukuro-kun successfully makes a good first impression on Father. At least this meeting was far less stressful than when I befriended Kyoudai!”. He nodded at Mukuro, signalling how ready he was to go in. Knocking on the door, Ishimaru waited until the masculine voice from the other side shouted “Come on in!”, which allowed him and Mukuro to enter.

The man before them looked just like a version of Ishimaru that was in his 40s with ashen black hair, only a pair of gray eyes replaced the son’s vivid crimson pair. He was groaning to himself to shove away apparent stress, a few beads of sweat running past his fuzz-specked chin. When the door to his office was shut, Takaaki looked up with surprise, yet still all the more happy because of the one who’d visited.

“Kiyotaka?” he wondered, “What are you doing here?”

“Mother wanted me to stop by after hearing you were still having a rough time at work,” Ishimaru answered, walking closer to his father and giving a little salute with a large grin.

“Ah, that certainly explains the bento box she gave to me this morning,” Takaaki commented, looking back at the half-eaten assorted lunch. “Chiyo always tries to find an answer for everything…”

Father and son pulled into a seconds-long embrace, more than happy to see each other. When they released their holds on one another, Takaaki noticed the observing Mukuro, who was still incredibly stiff in stance; arms completely stuck to her sides.

“And just who is this, son?” Takaaki asked the younger Ishimaru.

“Oh! Father, I’d like you to meet my friend!” Ishimaru started with his introduction, going over to Mukuro and presenting her as if he were an inventor showcasing his brilliant machine.

“My name is Mukuro Ikusaba, sir,” Mukuro introduced herself, giving Takaaki a formal salute. “I go to the same school as your son, myself being the SHSL Soldier.”

“A Soldier, hmm?” Takaaki pondered, squinting his somewhat weary eyes. “If that's the case, then I assume you have no criminal record to your name.”

“Correct, sir. I can assure you my slate is free of misdemeanors and felonies.”

“I asked her the same question on the way here,” Ishimaru informed his father.

“Hmm…” Takaaki pondered, pinching his stubble-covered chin.

Takaaki still looked upon the Soldier with hawkish eyes, taking in more info and observation. Seeing how stiff Mukuro was in his presence, he figured she definitely took the situation with high seriousness. He let out a low chuckle, putting a low palm in front of Mukuro with a light smile.

“At ease, Ikusaba-san,” Takaaki assured her, putting the palm down when Mukuro eased up tense nerves. “You're alright in my book so far.”

“S-So far?” Mukuro stuttered.

“Yes. If it turns out my son isn't safe with you, or you intend to harm him for any reason, I’ll gladly revoke the good first impression you’ve made on me,” Takaaki threatened, glare of protectiveness evident in his eyes. “Not only that, but I also have the ability to take legal action against you if I must, which I _will_. Are we clear, Ikusaba-san?”

“C-Crystal, sir! Trust me, Kiyotaka-kun is safe with me!”

“Wonderful,” Takaaki said, now calmer. “In that case, you're more than fine by me.”

 _“Father approves. What a relief…”_ Ishimaru sighed in his head before speaking aloud to his father. “So, anyways, Father, what have you been struggling with lately? Is there a suspect giving you trouble?”

As if his son had just asked a nerve-wracking question, Takaaki let out an exasperated sigh of weariness. He let a hand run up his forehead, going over to his desk and reviewing more important files. Ishimaru and Mukuro followed, keeping a fair distance in case it was too private for those who weren't in the police force.

“There's this _one_ little girl around your ages who keeps rubbing me the wrong way,” Takaaki explained. “Ever since she was taken into custody a couple weeks back, she's displayed odd behavior.”

“Like what?” Ishimaru and Mukuro asked.

“For starters, she keeps uttering and cackling to herself, some nonsense about her ‘true love’, I don't know. But whenever I interrogate her, she starts crying and makes me look like the bad guy every time! She's gotten the other officers practically at her mercy, but that look in her eyes whenever I’m near her has signaled countless red flags!”

“Who is this girl? We might be able to help you out since we're apparently closer to her age.”

Desperate and beyond exhausted, Takaaki opened the suspect’s files for Ishimaru and Mukuro to see. At first sight, the former let out an audible gasp of fear, his friend more subtly surprised and mentally preparing herself.

“Mikan Tsumiki,” Mukuro breathed, staring at the meek mugshots of the former and recently fired SHSL Nurse.

“You two have met?” Takaaki asked.

“Father, do you remember when I was in the hospital about three weeks ago?” Ishimaru asked, getting a nod from Takaaki as a response. “Well, Tsumiki-kun worked at that very hospital I was resting at.”

“She did?! Then you must have been a witness to her potential misdeeds! She wasn't the one who harmed you, was she?”

“Not… quite. But that's not important right now. What is is that Tsumiki-kun is charged for her crimes!”

“We’re on the case, sir,” Mukuro told Takaaki. “Leave things to us, and you’ll be able to rest easier than ever before.”

“Are you two sure?” Takaaki asked with concern. “I do trust you two are strong children, but even this girl might have something up her sleeve that might be unexpected.”

“Father, I can assure you Mukuro-kun and I are the champions of the unexpected!” Ishimaru insisted boisterously, taking out his white cell phone with red stripes. “Isn’t that right, my friend?”

“You’ve got it,” Mukuro agreed, taking out her own black cell phone. “We’ll be ready for anything.”

“Very well… I trust you both. Just be careful out there, okay?” Takaaki was mostly facing his son when he asked the question, concern and anxiety evident in the older man’s gray eyes.

“Yes, sir! Mukuro-kun and I will put this to rest once and for all!”

Takaaki pulled his son into another tender hug again, both males pulling apart after some time. The police officer gave his son and new guest a genuine “good luck” and where Mikan’s custody cell was, watching them leave with lingering fear for their well-being (especially the one of his own flesh and blood).

Ishimaru and Mukuro traversed the halls of the Apparition Kingdom building, looking everywhere for a certain corridor. Taking many left and right turns, the duo finally found where they needed to be, going through the doors and walking further down the hallway. Passing a few notable rooms and cells, Ishimaru and Mukuro stopped when they arrived at the coveted custody suite labelled “Cell 07”.

“This is where Seventh is,” Mukuro pointed out. “Be prepared, Kiyotaka-kun.”

“After what happened last time, I’ve never been more prepared in my life!” Ishimaru declared, gulping down the last of his nervousness.

Nodding once at each other, the duo entered the suite’s premises with bated breaths. Much to their shock, however, the cell that was supposed to contain Mikan Tsumiki had absolutely no one in it. Ishimaru and Mukuro stepped further inside to search, only to come across another surprise. On the floor laying dead and bloodied was an officer with the name “Sakamoto” on his blood stained bronze badge. Lodged in Sakamoto’s chest was a large share of glass originating from the broken mirror within the open empty cell.

“She’s escaped!” Ishimaru gasped, steering clear of the corpse beneath his feet.

“No matter, we’ll just have to act quicker than her,” Mukuro decided, inspecting the vacated cell and suite. “Come on, we can still catch her.”

Before following Mukuro, Ishimaru knelt down at the deceased Officer Sakamoto's level and pulled his eyelids down. He gave an honorable salute to the fallen man, quickly dashing to go wherever Mukuro was headed.

* * *

Elsewhere, the escaped and maddened Mikan roamed the Apparition Kingdom’s bleak halls, looking at her recently retrieved Health Diary for more injuries to be sustained by others. The prediction that just came true read “16:18: Officer Sakamoto receives a mortal stab wound to the chest after I deliver the blow with a shard of mirror glass. His serous, peritoneal, and partial pericardial membranes sustained the most damage after being severed.”

“And to think all I had to do was cry and beg like I was being hurt!” Mikan giggled rather cheerfully. “If I can just get myself out of here, I’ll be able to look for Fifth and Sixth so I can end them!”

Mikan looked at the rest of the predictions on her Health Diary, her next stop being the floor above the current where so many gullible cops unknowingly awaited their inevitable demise. Shutting her cell phone, Mikan stored it away in the pocket of her apron and climbed up the nearest set of stairs.

When she arrived on the second floor, she noticed an officer managing the area up ahead speaking into a walkie-talkie for a few seconds. Thinking fast, Mikan broke open the emergency fire container and took the axe inside, hiding it behind her back as she approached the officer with feigned innocence in her face.

“Oh, you must be that Tsumiki-chan girl who was wrongfully taken into custody,” the officer said when they noticed Mikan. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I just wanted to g-give you a little surprise f-for not thinking I’m a criminal, Officer,” Mikan stuttered, creasing her eyes upwards and gripping the axe handle tight. “B-But, you have to promise me something, okay?”

“Aww, you’d have to be heartless to say no to a face like that!” the officer crooned adoringly. “I guess that’s why Takaaki is treating you so badly. Not that I’d expect less from a guy who had such a loser for a father, haha! What do you need for me to do?”

“J-Just… hold still and close your eyes, okay? You’ll ruin the surprise if you d-don’t!” Mikan’s mouth stretched into a menacing grin, dark lilac eyes dulling until they appeared haunted and dead. _“Enoshima-sama, I hope you’re watching me! I’m sure you’d adore what I’m doing for our eternal love~!”_ she thought, raising the axe high in front of the oblivious officer.

In seconds, Mikan lowered a swift hack to the officer’s chest, causing their eyes to bolt open from the pain of the ax’s blade. Mad laughter increasing in volume, Mikan continued to grin as she ripped the axe blade from the officer’s flesh and repeatedly hacked their body until it was nothing more than a lifeless bag of flesh. Splats of blood slapped against Mikan’s body like paint as she kept hacking at the body with loud laughter of madness, only stopping once the officer was doubtlessly dead. Dropping the axe onto the blood-waxed floor, Mikan went through the corpse’s utility belt, finding a gun and some spare bullets.

“These will do nicely~,” Mikan purred, slipping a few more pieces of ammunition into the gun before shutting it tight. “At least when I find Fifth and Sixth, the job will get done much quicker!”

Mikan knelt below to the corpse’s level again, stripping them of their entire utility belt and equipping it around the smock underneath her bloodied medical apron. Putting the gun back in its place, she let the body be and walked off without a care about what she’d just done. Mikan did one more check on her Health Diary, reading the pleasant and now-true prediction of “16:25: The officer guarding the area receives several axe wounds to the abdominal cavity and arms. Several organ tissues have been cut through; excessive bleeding from the aorta and gastric acid spillage render most bodily functions useless.”. Hiding her Health Diary back in the pocket from whence it came, the armed Nurse kept walking down the halls of the building, plotting her next move.

* * *

 “Any clues in your Diary, Ishimaru-kun?” Mukuro asked as they climbed up the stairs to the second floor. “Perhaps something I’m going to do soon?”

“No, nothing,” Ishimaru told her. “We just have to keep looking for Tsumiki-kun before she hurts anyone!”

“...I think we’re too late. Take a look.”

Ishimaru wondered what Mukuro was talking about, only gasping with pure horror when he noticed the things she’d been pointing and referring to. Right in the middle of the second floor’s hallway was yet another slain officer, lying nearly-hacked to pieces in a pool of their own blood beside the axe used to carry out the crime. Such damage to their flesh was done to the point where they were hardly recognizable as a human being.

“She’s killing officers left and right!” Ishimaru realized loudly.

“Not just that, but Seventh is armed,” Mukuro added, looking down at the officer’s waistline. “See how there’s no utility belt? Looks like she did a little grave robbing today too.”

“Then we’d better steer clear.” The nagging feeling in Ishimaru’s gut at the fact that Mikan had killed at least two police officers within the building prompted him to hurry forward, Mukuro following behind. “Let’s take her down before she does something even more horrifying!”

As they hurried through the building, Ishimaru stopped in his tracks with an “OOMPH!” once freshly on Floor 3 of the Apparition Kingdom, feeling himself collide with another being. He fell to the ground, looking up to see he’d run into his worried father, who helped his child up with a simple hand pull.

“Father, what are you doing?” Ishimaru questioned. “I thought you were still in your office!”

“I was, but there was no way I’d let you two take down a dangerous serial killer of a nurse by yourselves!” Takaaki insisted. “Already she’s killed two or three coworkers of mine! I can’t allow the same thing to happen to my son!”

“Extra help is appreciated,” Mukuro said. “What do you propose we do, sir?”

“We search in close by corridor wings on this floor,” Takaaki suggested, taking out his pistol and cocking it with stern determination in his aging eyes. “She doesn't have too many floor options, so it's unlikely she has anywhere else to hide here.”

“And you're certain we’ll all be okay?” Ishimaru asked Takaaki, shaken from the thought of the next possible slain officer.

“Yes, Kiyotaka,” Takaaki assured his son, putting a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “Remember, your dad may be a little past his prime, but there's nothing he can't handle!”

“O-Of course…! I’ve never once doubted you for a second, Father! Let's get going and track down Tsumiki-kun! Mukuro-kun, follow me!”

Bracing himself, Ishimaru ran ahead to start the search for the dangerous Seventh Diary Holder. Just as Mukuro prepared to follow, Takaaki stopped her by lightly grabbing the Soldier’s shoulder. They made eye contact, serious blue ones looking deep into wearily anxious gray ones.

“Keep my son safe, Ikusaba-san,” Takaaki pleaded seriously. “No parent should ever outlive their child.”

“Worry not, sir,” Mukuro assured Takaaki, bowing with respect once. “I’d gladly risk life and limb if it means protecting Kiyotaka-kun. As long as I’m around, no one will touch him.”

“Good. But, you steer clear yourself, alright? My boy seems to be rather fond of you.”

“Will do, sir. That will do.”

With Takaaki in tow, Mukuro ran off to catch up with Ishimaru. Her Fenrir knife was unsheathed and ready for action, focused on now two missions at hand. Takaaki himself had a nasty feeling in his gut, but pushed it aside for the sake of not just pure justice, but the life of his pride and joy that was currently helping him catch a love-crazy teenaged criminal.

 


	19. Day 20 Part 2: A Prefect's Greatest Punishment!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses (from Chapter 18):
> 
> SHSL Guest: That is the sweetest comment I've received yet. You have no idea how happy I am to hear you're enjoying this story! Thank you so much, dearie!
> 
> (Chapter 19)
> 
> SHSL Guest: *ecstatic Perona laugh*
> 
> With that being said, enjoy this quick update, everyone! ♥

Ishimaru, Mukuro, and Takaaki all investigated the diverse rooms on the third floor. Through each one, they kept their nerves braced, despite having yet to be fruitful in the search of the runaway Mikan Tsumiki. While Mukuro's Tactics Diary failed to tell her anything useful at the moment, Ishimaru's Friendship Diary kept updating with entries about the locations Mukuro was searching.

“Maybe she's in here?” Mukuro suggested.

“Nope, Cells 28 through 32 are clear,” Ishimaru told Mukuro, looking at his Diary. “We're getting nowhere this way! I'm afraid our best option is to split up.”

“I agree,” Mukuro said. “If we all look in the same place, it's gonna take longer to find Seve-- I mean, Tsumiki-san.” Mukuro was sure to say the proper name around a non-Diary Holder like Takaaki.

“If we’re going to search elsewhere, then you both need proper gear,” Takaaki pointed out, going over to the nearby supply closet. He came back with two black bulletproof vests and handed them to Ishimaru and Mukuro. “Tsumiki could be armed, so you’re going to need these.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mukuro said, putting and fastening the vest over her white buttoned blouse as Ishimaru did the same to his gakuran. “These will come in handy.”

“You be careful out there, okay?” Takaaki pleaded for mostly his son. “I just can't imagine what I’d do if I lost you.”

“I wish you the best of luck too, Father,” Ishimaru told his dad as the two shared one more familial embrace. “I love you, you know!”

“I love you too, Kiyotaka. I always will.”

Ishimaru pulled back from Takaaki, hurrying after Mukuro with mild gusto. Sighing, Takaaki braced himself and went off to the East Wing of the third floor to continue his search. Upon reaching an arrangement of closed doors, he swore he heard the sound an interfering television would make, but passed it off as a non-existent noise. Takaaki walked passed the closed doors, finally finding one where a feminine voice giggled to herself behind it. Readying his gun, Takaaki furrowed his thick ashen brows and kicked the door open, finally spotting Mikan. The startled Nurse scrambled backwards clumsily, pushing herself up after picking her Health Diary up from the floor.

“Freeze!” Takaaki shouted, pointing the loaded gun at Mikan, who put on a mildly innocent façade.

“N-Now now, Officer,” Mikan stuttered meekly, “d-don't you think it's a little dangerous to be pointing a gun at a defenseless girl?”

“I’m not. I'm pointing a gun at a girl who's not only armed, but has also slain several of my associates.”

“Hee-hee! Th-There’s no way of proving that! Do you r-really believe someone like me is strong enough to do that?”

“Yes. And the pudding-encased proof is the blood clear on your clothing. Now, we can either make this easy and have you surrender, or unnecessarily difficult and make me use force. What's it going to be?”

Mikan froze, trying to come up with a plan. Takaaki clearly had no intention to lower his gun anytime soon, so one wrong move could result in an unwanted Dead End. Thinking quickly, Mikan stood up with the gun following her, dropping her own gun before putting her arms up in apparent defeat with the open Health Diary in her grip. Takaaki finally lowered the gun somewhat, confiscating Mikan's seemingly mundane cellular device. When he looked at the screen, Takaaki was surprised to read strange journal entries about fatal conditions his associates were put in, especially so when he found his own name.

“‘16:42: Officer Ishimaru takes two bullets through the thoracic cavity, puncturing his visceral pleura and a resulting bronchial rupture.’?!” Takaaki gasped, unaware that Mikan had just picked her gun up in those few seconds of distraction. When he heard the gun cock, Takaaki looked at Mikan with a startled gasp.

“That's right~!” Mikan cackled, grinning madly with dulled eyes and an index finger teasing the trigger. “You’ve been the most annoying in keeping me from being with my true love forever, so looks like a certain someone's gotta go~!”

* * *

Simultaneously, Ishimaru and Mukuro were hurrying back from their unsuccessful search in the West Wing of Floor 3. They were approaching where the Hall Monitor’s father went to look for Mikan when they both heard two loud _BANG!_ noises, the sounds being obvious gunshots. Ringing through his ears, Ishimaru felt several red flags go up within him, a grim possibility flashing through his brain.

“That shot came from where Father is!” Ishimaru exclaimed, suddenly grabbing Mukuro by the wrist and running like the wind. “We’ve got to hurry!”

Ishimaru pulled Mukuro through the corridors, reaching the East Wing. Running from an open door with bloody footprints tailing was Mikan, who was still laughing madly from her crime while holding her Health Diary. She appeared to have not noticed Ishimaru and Mukuro, the latter whom unsheathed her Fenrir knife and prepared to go after Mikan. Before she could give chase, Mukuro was stopped by a worried and frightened Ishimaru, who instead dragged her towards the room Mikan fled from.

“Kiyotaka-kun, Seventh is getting away!” Mukuro proclaimed, only for Ishimaru to not let go. “What is it?”

“My father’s not here… we have to find him!” Ishimaru cried, worry reaching its peak.

The closer they got to the cell suite, the more Ishimaru pleaded for his father’s safety in his thoughts, sweat beading and dashing down the side of his head. Unfortunately for him, the moment he and Mukuro stepped inside after passing the open threshold, Ishimaru swore his heart went completely still. Lying back-first and static on the floor was certainly the man known as Takaaki Ishimaru, but as the son feared, the 40-year old’s eyes were wide open in eternal shock while blood poured from two bullet wounds in his lungs. Feeling more air leave his body, Ishimaru released the equally shocked Mukuro from his grip and ran over to the still Takaaki, shaking him in unison with thick tears welling up behind his lower eyelids.

“Father! Father, please wake up!” Ishimaru begged, clinging to the thin thread of hope that Takaaki was merely unconscious. “For the love of God, you have to! I-If you don’t, Mother and I… we’ll be so worried!”

“Kiyotaka-kun, your father--” Mukuro began.

“Mukuro-kun! You told me you know first-aid!” Ishimaru exclaimed, interrupting his friend. “Surely you can check on him! G-Go on… tell me he’s alright!”

Mukuro’s eyes widened with her mouth, both plagued with shock and sadness. The pleading look in Ishimaru’s tearful pair only threw salt into the fresh wound, but she nonetheless had to corroborate the gruesome news somehow. Kneeling above the blood pool surrounding the corpse that was Takaaki Ishimaru, Mukuro placed her index and middle fingers on the officer’s neck, running them up and down to find some hint of life within him. When she found nothing, Mukuro looked at Ishimaru with empathetically sorrowful eyes, gently shutting Takaaki’s frozen eyelids as a final sign of respect.

“...I’m sorry,” Mukuro sighed before ducking her head and closing her eyelids to refuse Ishimaru direct contact, “he’s gone.”

The horrific news reached Ishimaru’s ears in seconds, his eyes widening as he felt his entire heart shattering into pieces. Now the drops of water flowing out of his eyelids got heavier, sobs transforming into cries of pure, unadulterated pain when he went over to his father’s dead body and clung to it like a helpless child. Something within Ishimaru hoped, prayed that everything was merely a bad dream, and that a better reality would welcome him with open arms when he woke up. But when he looked at the physical reminder that he would never see his beloved father ever again, Ishimaru started to bawl harder.

“Damn it, DAMN IT, **_DAMN IT_**!” Ishimaru cursed to no one exactly, kneeling his head in Takaaki’s pulseless chest. “He was my dad! Why did you have to take him away from me?! He never… he never deserved any of this!”

Mukuro watched the heartbreaking scene before her unravel, feeling all sorts of grief on Ishimaru’s behalf. The very picture reminded the Soldier of a past loss she felt, such horrible feelings she knew all too well from the other timeline. Now, Mukuro was far from being the best at cheering someone up, but if there was a time to help her only friend, it was now. She felt  extreme physical contact wouldn’t help the situation at all, so the best she could think to do was kneel next to Ishimaru, reaching a hand out until it barely touched his. This managed to get some of Ishimaru’s attention, looking at the empathetic Mukuro with reddened and tear-dripping eyes as his arms still clung to his late father’s body. Although sobs still shook his pain-stricken body and tearful crimson eyes, Ishimaru released Takaaki’s corpse at last, letting Mukuro help him off the ground.

“He didn’t deserve this,” Mukuro said, agreeing with Ishimaru’s earlier cries. “But if you want to help honor your father, then we must go after Seventh and take her down.”

Typically, the thought of taking another person’s life would horrify Ishimaru to the point of feeling unfathomably guilty. He waited for that feeling to return, but strangely enough… it never came. As he wiped flowing tears from his eyes, Ishimaru felt as though he’d been taught something completely different. When he thought about taking down Mikan while looking at his father’s dead body, he felt a strange sense of righteousness. Paired with that feeling of justification was not only a newfound hatred for Mikan, but a strong, burning rage that no words could douse. Clenching his fists, Ishimaru felt no more tears come as his teeth clenched tightly, eyebrows creasing deep into the folds of his forehead as his breathing became intemperate with vindictive fury.

“Kiyotaka-kun?” Mukuro wondered, starting to feel concern for her friend. “Shall we get going?”

“...No,” Ishimaru hissed, tone heavy with anger. “If anybody’s going to take down the Seventh, it’s me. This isn’t your fight this time, Mukuro-kun. Let me take care of this by myself.”

“But, Kiyotaka-kun, I have to help you--”

“ _I SAID **NO**_! This… madwoman! She’s the reason my father’s dead! I’m going to be the one to make sure her Dead End flag comes true! This, my friend, is _personal_!”

It was painstakingly obvious how Ishimaru would fail to see any reason due to grief and vengeance blinding him so. Sighing in defeat, Mukuro nodded and wished Ishimaru the best of luck, to which he said nothing and dashed off through the building, thinking only of Mikan’s inevitable future death at his hands and avenging his slain father.

All the way down to Floor 2, Ishimaru saw nothing but red, heart aching and hands twisting with the lust for the Seventh Diary Holder’s blood on their surface. When he approached the deceased officer with axe wounds in their body, he noticed Mikan’s discarded axe still lying right beside them. No longer concerned about the officer themself, Ishimaru picked up the blood-stained axe and gripped it tight in one hand, continuing his search for Mikan. Ishimaru traversed every inch of the hall, but saw no sight of his target. He knew the Friendship Diary would be of no use since he told Mukuro he’d handle this himself, so another idea sprouted in his head.

“It’s time for Seventh’s Diary to finally betray her,” Ishimaru said to himself, taking the axe and using it to smash a nearby window. Picking up one of the glass shards, Ishimaru brought the sharpest point to the top of his knee and ran it swiftly across, grunting in pain as the skin beneath his sliced pants opened and allowed blood to escape the vessels.

At the same time, Mikan was in a different section of the second floor when her Health Diary made its loud static noise, the screen fizzing out briefly until newer future entries appeared onscreen. Delight filled her senses when her violet eyes read the prediction “16:59: Sixth cuts himself in the knee with a piece of glass from a window right beside the staircase. Minor blood vessels anterior to the patella are severed, resulting in a minor scrape.”, until she was shocked to read the bottom-most prediction of “17:19: Tsumiki Mikan is hacked to death by Ishimaru Kiyotaka. DEAD END”.

“I h-have a Dead End flag?!” Mikan gasped before bracing herself with a gulp. “N-No matter! All I’ve gotta do i-is turn Sixth into Swiss cheese, and I’ll have a cleaner future with my Enoshima-sama!”

Mikan went to find the staircase. When she arrived at the right location, she saw Ishimaru up ahead. Making sure to keep herself hidden behind a wall, she put her Health Diary away and cocked her stolen gun, shakily pointing it at Ishimaru whilst aiming for a point in his body not protected by the vest. However, luck was far from being on her side, because the distance between Ishimaru and Mikan’s shakily held gun was too great for a direct aim, causing the fired bullet to hit the male directly in the vest. The bullet failed to penetrate the protective gear, instead telling Ishimaru where Mikan was. From the moment his eyes caught sight of her, they burned again with rage right before Ishimaru started charging at the girl who murdered his dear father.

 _“Oh crap, oh crap, OH CRAP!”_ Mikan cried in her head, firing more misaimed bullets at Ishimaru with her shaky grasp.

Panicking, Mikan ran right past Ishimaru before he could raise his axe at her to attack. She bolted towards the staircase, rushing down each step while Ishimaru followed and let out shouts of anger at the Nurse. Failing to watch her footing, Mikan’s foot took a step too far and down she went on the last half of the stairs, falling back first onto the Apparition Kingdom’s lobby. Scrambling up, Mikan headed out the door and ran outside, where Ishimaru gave chase to wherever she tried fleeing to.

“One more shot, please just one more!” Mikan pleaded, looking ahead while pointing and firing the gun behind her where Ishimaru was. This time, one of her stray bullets struck Ishimaru in the arm, slowing him down greatly as he clutched its bleeding hole. “Yes! Now I just gotta get out of sight and I’ll be free!”

The ex-SHSL Nurse forced her tiring feet to carry her to the nearby forest, where the shroud of tall trees apparently concealed her from sight. Once deep enough into the natural sanctuary, Mikan stopped running and collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. Panting, Mikan took her Health Diary out to see if it changed its mind about the grim future it promised her. Much to the plum-haired girl’s fears, the same prediction was still blatant on the screen with its paired “DEAD END” below it. She heard footsteps over dead leaves, spooking her into thinking Ishimaru finally caught up with her. Mikan’s nerves calmed greatly when she saw it wasn’t him, but instead another figure. Serenity was replaced with borderline-ecstasy once the mysterious figure got closer, and the Nurse recognized them as none other than Junko Enoshima.

“M-My love!” Mikan beamed, face becoming heated and heart racing with joy as she ran over and immediately hugged Junko while nuzzling her head in her busty chest. “I never thought I’d see you in the mortal realm!”

“Hey, I _can_ come here, y’know,” Junko pointed out, “I just don’t always feel like it.”

“E-Enoshima-sama, you’ve got to hide m-me! Sixth is on my tail, and I can’t get rid of him! W-Won’t you b-be so kind as to take me back to your other realm? M-Maybe we can start our eternity together, even if I’m not a Goddess yet…”

Junko pinched her chin with her index finger and thumb, rubbing the skin fold in circles as her skeptical blue eyes looked into Mikan’s pleading lilac ones. A smile came across her face, which Mikan interpreted as a yes. The conjecture was only supported when Junko cupped Mikan’s face, prompting the Nurse to close her eyes, pucker her lips, and lean in for a kiss. However, she opened them wide again when Junko put a manicured finger to the soft lips instead of her own, grinning maliciously at Mikan’s confusion.

“Nice knowin’ ya, Seventh,” Junko giggled with a whispered hiss. “Have fun getting hacked to pieces by Sixth! I know I will when I watch~!”

Mikan’s lower jaw threatened to fall into the dirt when Junko said that, heart cracking and falling apart from within her chest. Her eyes shook back and forth in their sockets, trying to process the shock she was feeling from such sudden betrayal. Junko took a few steps forward, only for Mikan to grab her by the wrist.

“B-But… d-didn’t you say you w-wanted to spend all eternity with m-me?” Mikan asked, desperation growing. “Y-You told me… you told me I was your only beloved!”

“Upupupu, how dumb are you?” Junko asked rhetorically, driving more nails into Mikan’s breaking heart. “What? You seriously thought I was in love with you? I’ve only got two loves: the fact that I’m practically a demigod who can do almost anything in the world, and the sweet sweet despair you’re feeling right now from realizing you’re nothing to me but another toy! And that’s all you’ll ever be to anyone! Don’t you get it~, my dear?”

“A t-t-toy…?” Mikan breathed, tears forming in her eyes and falling to the soil immediately. “B-But, Enoshima-sama… S-Second…! I love you! You were my one true happiness in life! Y-You said you were the only one who cared about me!”

“Hey, I say a lot of things, but they’re not always true, now are they, toots?” Junko looked down at the blubbering Mikan with disgust, rolling her eyes as she pushed her to the ground and began walking off. “Ugh, you’re boring me. I’ve got somewhere ta be already. So… ta-ta! Have a nice Dead End, Seventh~!”

“N-No! W-Wait, c-come back! Enoshima-sama! I’ll do anything you tell me! **_I BEG OF YOU,_** ** _DON’T LEAVE ME_**!”

Mikan found Junko was deaf to her audible pleas, the last of her heart crumbling into dust as the Nurse fell to the ground in utter despair. Tears and sobs shook the girl, throwing filthy hands to her dampened face as more footsteps approached Mikan. Picking up on the noises, Mikan looked up in hopes Junko had returned and changed her mind. Unfortunately, another person was in front of her: the livid and revenge-blind Kiyotaka Ishimaru. Mikan quickly pushed herself up from the forest ground, backing away from Ishimaru as he stepped closer to her, scarlet eyes fuming with a thirst for retribution.

“S-Sixth, p-please reconsider!” Mikan begged.

“You don’t deserve to be alive,” Ishimaru hissed, eyes somewhat darkened as he batted the blunt end of the axe into his hand repeatedly without taking his gaze off of Mikan. “After I’m done with you, you’re going to _wish_ you never rescued me from the park!”

“P-Please don’t k-kill me! I’m s-so sorry I k-killed your dad! Tell me what I can do to make you forgive me! A-Anything! I w-want to be f-forgiven for what I d-did!”

“NEVER! I can typically forgive many things, but murdering one of my own isn’t one of them! And now… you’re going to receive your just punishment!”

Raising the axe high above his head, all the frightened Mikan could do was scream louder than she ever had before with arms uselessly guarding her face. Down Ishimaru tugged the axe, striking Mikan directly in the frontal lobe and knocking her to the ground on her back while the Health Diary fell to the dirt from her apron pocket. With each remorseless hack at Mikan’s flesh and bone, the dying girl let out choked cries of agony, feeling every ounce of life be chopped out of her. She managed to turn her head away from the livid and murderous Ishimaru hacking her body with grunts of frustration, accepting her ultimate fate as she reached an arm out to where she last saw Junko.

“P-Please… h-help me… Enoshima-sama…” Mikan coughed, tears leaking from her eyes as they slowly fell shut forever.

Although Mikan was likely dead already in his eyes, Ishimaru refused to stop hacking at the body until every last ounce of revenge was out of his system. Blood splattered from Mikan and onto his uniform, the cleanliness of said clothing he showed no concern for at the moment. Soon enough, he was only massacring a pile of spilled blood, guts, and flesh that hardly looked anything like a human girl. Ishimaru finally stopped swinging the axe into Mikan’s mutilated corpse, breathing in and out as he looked at what he’d done. What caught his attention next was the discarded Health Diary, which still had the final prediction of its slain owner’s Dead End.

“Leave no trace left behind…” Ishimaru breathed, raising the axe once again and lowering the sharp head into the cell phone, smashing it into pieces.

A hole opened up where Mikan’s chest was estimated to be, her body twisting sideways and distorting until the body became a swirling vortex. In seconds, Mikan’s Dead End vortex spun around and around to the point where it disappeared for good. Dropping the axe, Ishimaru limped all the way back to Apparition Kingdom with cumbersome feet, his body almost numb from head to toe.

* * *

 Later that evening, several wailing police cars from different stations swarmed the Apparition Kingdom building, officers blockading the doors with yellow police tape. Ambulances were wide open and awaiting the body bags of fallen police officers on the stretchers to get inside for their journey to the morgue. Watching the corpse exposed at the head as Takaaki Ishimaru be wheeled to the ambulance were Ishimaru, Mukuro, and the recently arrived Chiyo, who quickly broke down into tears of heartbreak and grief at watching her dead husband be taken away into the white medical truck.

“Why, God?! Why my Takaaki?! He wasn’t ready to go!” Chiyo bawled as different officers comforted her while walking her to a more secluded area. “I want my husband back! Give him back to me!”

Mukuro was forced to watch the scene with the utmost empathy for the widowed Chiyo, looking at Ishimaru with just as much pity. She noticed her friend was standing slightly slouched, yet eerily still. When she waved a hand in front of his hanging head, Ishimaru pretended as if he saw nothing and continued to stare at the ground, void of any and all feeling in the hollow crimson eyes belonging to him.

“I’d better get him back to school,” Mukuro sighed, carefully grabbing Ishimaru and carrying him like a living crutch. “The poor thing’s going to have a tough time coping, I can tell.”

Thankfully, Ishimaru was able to walk somewhat, so it made the stroll a bit easier for Mukuro. Nonetheless, the journey to the nearest bus station was deathly silent between them. On the bus back to Hope’s Peak Academy, the taciturn Ishimaru let his head slump sideways, landing on Mukuro’s shoulder. If not for current circumstances, Mukuro would have pushed the head away. Instead, she allowed Ishimaru to rest his head there, feeling tears slide from unblinking scarlet eyes and onto her shirt. Her shoulder was now damp with heavy liquid, but Mukuro ignored it in favor of placing a gentle hand on Ishimaru’s head, stroking his bristled black hair comfortingly as she leaned her chin in close to his unresponsive form.

“Kiyotaka…” Mukuro sighed wistfully, dropping the unneeded formal suffix for the time being as Ishimaru’s blank mind prevented him from heeding such a soft voice.


	20. Day 35: Friends That Can Be Counted On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> SHSL Guest: Well, aren't you the sweetest thing ever? And if you think it's heartbreaking now, just wait until you read future chapters! After all, this IS what happens when you mix Dangan Ronpa and Mirai Nikki.
> 
> Ice Pick: And you didn't put this comment on the first chapter... why? Like, why would you comment on this when you're at the most risk for being spoiled? Anyways, to answer your question, it's complicated. Izuru/Junko is ship teased (mainly from Junko's side, but her true intentions are ambiguous), but Komaeda is solely and openly attracted to Izuru. Plus, they're not even the main ship, so why does it matter in the first place?
> 
> Zeke: You might wanna hold that first thought for a couple more chapters. Not gonna lie, the first part of this chapter was pre-tty depressing to write. As for the lighter note, you could say he all the ladies want (to kill) him~!

A little over two weeks passed since the incident at the Apparition Kingdom, marking the date to be a rainy and bleak Wednesday morning around 7:20 am. Instead of being at Hope’s Peak preparing for class, Ishimaru was currently marching through a damp and depressing cemetery wearing a black tuxedo with a matching black tie tucked between the coat and dress shirt. Although he felt completely overcome by numbing grief, Ishimaru still hauled one of the four taken handles of the smooth black casket containing the corpse of his slain father. As he lugged the casket towards the front of several metal folding chairs, more tears fell from the depressed Hall Monitor’s eyelids, disguising itself within the falling rain.

At long last, Takaaki’s casket reached its destination as the four pallbearers laid the burial capsule upon its vault stand, keeping it directly above the perfectly dug rectangular hole in the ground where he was to be laid to rest. Ishimaru passed the large standing portrait of his father, which had two black ribbons wrapped at the top to signify his passing. Putting a soft hand atop the casket briefly, Ishimaru looked directly down at where Takaaki laid dead, sniffling back more mucus and tears with eyes clamped shut.

“I’m so sorry, Father…” Ishimaru choked as a few lucky tears got their chance to escape from his face. “If only I’d changed your own grim future… then…!”

Ishimaru couldn’t get more words out, only heart-wrenching sobs and coughs from his throat as he kept his face covered with one palm, marching over to the seat next to Chiyo, who was bawling nearly as hard as her son. The mascara once neatly applied to her long lashes now smeared past her eyelids from every last teardrop shed, which the rain certainly did nothing to mitigate. Blowing her nose into the tissue and stuffing it into a plastic bag, Chiyo handed her son a spare umbrella, Ishimaru opening it in unison with his mother as the rain started pouring harder.

“D-Don’t blame yourself for what happened, Kiyo-kun,” Chiyo told her son through restrained sobs and sniffles. “A-At least… at least he’s in a better place than here…”

Chiyo started crying some more despite her attempt at assuring her child, wiping away her tears with her free hand containing the tissue. All of a sudden, Ishimaru’s underused Friendship Diary signaled another future change, prompting him to hesitantly open it before the services were to begin. He read individual, yet important predictions. The first said “07:23: Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun both show up for Father’s burial. Those two truly are my best friends for attending and paying their respects”, while a second below it read “07:27: Mukuro-kun also shows up to the service with an adult man who looks a bit like her. She’s really come to care about me if she’s doing this for my sake.”.

Ishimaru quickly put the phone back in his pocket, right at the moment Mondo and Chihiro arrived at the services, the former on the now-parked Kawasaki, while the latter came in a car alongside his identical father, the glasses-wearing Taichi Fujisaki. Surprisingly enough, Mondo was dressed appropriately for the ceremonies, donning a dark tuxedo and tie along with a pair of black shoes. As for Chihiro, he was wearing a black sweater partnered with an equally colored skirt over black stockings and flat shoes, his father donning a traditional tuxedo. All three sat close to the widow and fatherless child in mourning, showing nothing but tender empathy towards Chiyo and Ishimaru.

“So, you must be Ishimaru-kun?” Taichi asked the forlorn Hall Monitor. “My Chihiro’s told me so much about you.”

“Has he now?” Ishimaru sighed, not caring too much about the statement.

“Ishimaru-kun, I can’t express how sorry I am about your dad,” Chihiro said, wiping away a few tears from his big eyes. “Especially since he died so horribly.”

“I’ll admit, the guy was ten times the enforcer you are,” Mondo sighed. “But, even I think it’s messed up that he lost his life like that.” Reaching over from the front, Mondo put a reassuring hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “Just know Chihiro and I’ll always be here for ya. Okay, Taka?”

“...Thank you both,” Ishimaru sniffled, looking at them with weary eyes.

“You’re free to talk to me about it too, if you’d like…” Taichi suggested. “I’ll never be your dad, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look out for my child’s friends too.”

“I appreciate the offer, Chihiro-kun’s father,” Ishimaru said to Taichi sincerely.

Just as the Friendship Diary predicted, another car pulled up right beside another. Out came Mukuro, wearing a black jacket and dark-colored pencil skirt with black heels, walking towards the seats with an adult man appearing to be somewhere in his mid-30s. The man had short and combed black hair like Mukuro, only his face lacked her freckles along with his eyes being a vivid baby blue whereas the Soldier’s were a steel blue-gray. Both took their seats in the same row, close to Ishimaru and Chiyo.

“You came,” Ishimaru pointed out. “But who’s your guest?” He asked, looking at the man with frighteningly cold eyes in the tuxedo.

“Dad, this is my friend, Kiyotaka Ishimaru,” Mukuro introduced the man to Ishimaru, prompting him to shake the younger male’s hand with a calm face. “Kiyotaka-kun, this is my father.”

“Kenji Ikusaba,” Kenji introduced, finishing the mutual handshake before moving onto shaking Chiyo’s hand and repeating his name. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Ikusaba-kun,” Chiyo responded. “I’m Chiyo Ishimaru.”

Kenji exchanged sympathetic words of condolences with Chiyo, while Mukuro was sure to sit close to the suffering younger Ishimaru. She reached another hand out to him for comfort, Ishimaru responding this time by grabbing the palm with his own and squeezing it, feeling more tears fall from his eyes while he sniffled back  sobs. At that moment, the grim funeral services for Takaaki Ishimaru had begun, the pastor going up to the podium and speaking once the adequate amount of attending mourners were quiet.

“Ahem,” the pastor coughed, clearing his throat of any residue before speaking further. “Friends and family, we are here on this sorrowful day to lay to rest a brave soul who unfortunately lost his dear life in the line of duty.”

At those words, most of the mourners (especially Chiyo, who still yearned for the impossible reality of her husband being alive and well) started sniffling and letting out sobs of either sorrow or empathy for those in pain. Ishimaru allowed tears to fall from his eyes, but no more sobs would come from his numb body. He knew Mukuro was holding onto his hand with a gentle grip, but did nothing to respond to such comfort besides secretly acknowledge her actions.

The pastor continued on through the service, saying a few prayers and reciting a eulogy on Takaaki Ishimaru’s life (leaving out some “controversial” things on behalf of his family). As the service progressed, family members and other loved ones were given consent to speak briefly about the fallen Takaaki. When a melancholic Chiyo returned to her seat after going into detail about her romance and mostly prosperous marriage to her late husband, she looked at the hollow Ishimaru as if asking if he were comfortable. Ishimaru failed to give his mother a response, instead staring at the ground with emptiness as if he were the dead man instead of his father. Joining in concern for Ishimaru with his friends, Chiyo kept an arm around her son, still keeping in mind Mukuro’s physical hand contact with him.

By 8:05 that morning, everyone rose from their seats and joined the pastor by the burial hole where Takaaki was to be laid to rest for all time. The four original pallbearers moved the jet black casket into the vault and off the support platform, which was moved by two other people to commence with the actual burial. Before it was sealed up, Chiyo stepped forward and placed a final kiss on the casket in memory of Takaaki, continuing to mourn her husband afterwards. The vault was sealed at last, lowered into the grave as Ishimaru was forced to watch with a firm body and heavy heart alongside his comforting friends, mother, and friends’ fathers.

“Now, if all would step forward to place the honorary dirt upon the fallen,” the pastor announced.

The ones who stepped forth to carry two handfuls of dirt were of course, Ishimaru, Chiyo, Mukuro, Chihiro, Mondo, Taichi, and Kenji. All but Ishimaru slowly tipped their hands downward to release the dirt onto Takaaki’s burial vault, whispering somber promises of missing the fallen officer in their own way. Ishimaru himself tried tipping his hands in the same direction, but they only trembled with grief and sorrow at the thought of whom they’d be helping lay to rest. Tear drops dripped onto the pile, balling up some specks of dirt as they sunk into the pile of the Earth’s dust. Mukuro went over and put a careful hand on Ishimaru’s arm, looking at him more sincerely than ever.

“It’s okay, Kiyotaka-kun,” Mukuro said to him. “Your father would have wanted you to keep being strong.”

Closing his tearful eyes, Ishimaru finally tipped his hand forward, slowly pouring his pile of dirt onto the vault containing his late father’s corpse. Rubbing the remaining wet bits from his hands, Ishimaru’s heart felt heavy with grief, beating as though it’d slowed down greatly. A front-end loader came carrying a much heftier pile of dirty, carefully filling Takaaki’s grave up from bottom to top until the vault could no longer be seen by the public eye. Several people started to sob and snivel with tears when they saw the burial be finalized, saying their last goodbyes to Takaaki Ishimaru before walking away from the concluded ceremony of passing. Kenji and Taichi decided to walk out of the cemetery with the grieving widow that was Chiyo Ishimaru, while Mondo, Chihiro, and Mukuro watched Ishimaru kneel at the fresh grave marked “Ishimaru Takaaki: A loving father and husband” followed by his birth and death dates. The Hall Monitor’s expression remained blank and grim as he let the inconsequential rain soak his hair and clothes, still looking at his father’s burial place without any words.

“We should give him some time to himself,” Chihiro suggested. “Is that okay with you, Ishimaru-kun?”

Ishimaru said nothing, only staring at the grave with somber numbness in his listless soul. Mondo took it as a yes and advised Chihiro to leave him alone, walking off with the smaller male after one more word of condolence directed at their mourning friend. Mukuro, on the other hand, stayed behind for Ishimaru’s sake. When she stroked his back, he acted as if he physically felt nothing there, shallow breath entering and exiting the Prefect’s lungs with condensed evidence in the chilly air.

“I promise to make this right too,” Mukuro said to Ishimaru. “If I’m the one who becomes a Goddess, then I’ll make sure your father lives again. Is that alright with you, Kiyotaka-kun?”

Although not too able to speak verbally, Ishimaru for once heeded Mukuro’s words and gave a shaky nod of corroboration. Mukuro helped Ishimaru up from the ground, supporting him like a crutch as she opened her camouflage umbrella to shield both her and Ishimaru from the rain and its potential sickness-inducing viruses. The Soldier wasn’t aware of it due to Ishimaru’s visible depression, but her promise from seconds ago gave Ishimaru an idea that teased his brain. However, the lingering conscience from within him refuted such thoughts and proverbially told him to think on it more before making it an official action down the road.

* * *

By 9 o’clock, Ishimaru was finally back at Hope’s Peak Academy, donning his pristine white uniform once again. Fastening his knee-length black boots, he inserted the Friendship Diary into his pocket and left his room to get to the rest of his classes, body still cumbersome as he trudged through the halls. Carrying his stuff in his primarily numb arms, Ishimaru walked by everything and everyone, completely unresponsive to it all. He passed a bunch of students, who for once offered him considerate words instead of the usual disrespect and mockery.

“Are you doing alright, Ishimaru?” he heard one ask.

“Sorry about your dad, Ishi,” another said with sympathy.

“I hope you feel better soon!” someone else called out.

Somewhere within him, Ishimaru had genuine appreciation to others being thoughtful with their condolences. But, the Hall Monitor was far too internally numb to summon any strength to respond to anyone. Instead, he said nothing and continued to drag himself to the Disciplinary Committee. Before he could reach it, he was approached by Asahina and Sakura, both appearing somber for Ishimaru.

“How are things, Ishimaru?” Sakura asked, towering over Ishimaru due to her height. “Asahina and I have heard about your father’s fate, and may you accept both our condolences.”

“Trust me, I know exactly what you’re going through,” Asahina said, putting a gentle palm on the Hall Monitor’s shoulder. “After I lost my little brother, I felt horrible for so long because… well, I thought I could have saved him! I knew what happened to him wasn’t actually my fault, but that fact’s so hard to agree that when you feel like the future could have gone differently." She stopped herself before the depressing thoughts could get to her entirely, striking her palm with the side of her fist. "But! I knew I couldn’t let it bring me down forever. Not to mention, I’ve now got more than a reason to keep going for his sake!” Ishimaru’s lack of response worried Asahina, who decided to keep pressing on with more comforting words. “If you want, you could join Sakura-chan and I for a little training session later on. How about it?”

Not a word passed Ishimaru’s lips, the boy instead staring off into space with an empty gaze. Both Sakura and Asahina felt all the more sympathetic for Ishimaru, but didn’t want to risk making the atmosphere more heavy for his failing spirit usually so vigorous and lively.

“We wish you the best of luck in recovering,” Sakura told Ishimaru as Asahina pulled him into a tight hug once. “We both believe you can get through this.”

“Exactly! You’re not the ‘giving in’ type, so just know you’ve got faith from me and Sakura-chan!” Asahina encouraged, starting to walk off with Sakura. “Feel better, Ishimaru!”

With that being said, Asahina and Sakura went on to their agenda. Seeing the girls were out of sight, Ishimaru slugged off to the Disciplinary Committee like he intended, still lacking the desire to be tardy for anymore duties. When he’d gotten to his initial destination, however, one of the leading students stopped him from entering. Ishimaru looked up at them with hollow, yet questioning eyes.

“Ishimaru-kun, you’ve had a pretty rough two weeks,” they said with sincerity. “Why don't you let us take care of things until you're back on your feet again? We don't want to pile more stress on you!”

“...I understand,” Ishimaru got out with a sigh, turning around and leaving.

He heard the “feel better soon” from behind, nodding at them and moving onto the rest of his tasks. Ishimaru decided to change his path in favor of the library, only to receive both a future update and text messages from his Friendship Diary.

Ishimaru looked at what the future had in store for his friends. The topmost of the new predictions said “09:12: Mukuro-kun patiently waits for me at a library table for a joint study session. Truly someone both studious and considerate!” right above “10:05: Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun arrive outside the library to take me to the bathhouse as promised in the text. It's good to know I have friends that really care for me.”. A notable entry occurring afterwards was “10:43: Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun console me after getting me to pour my heart out to them. I couldn't have asked for better friends than them!” right before “10:51: Mukuro-kun starts preparing for the evening outing personally planned for Friday. I hope she has a good time then!”. Ishimaru checked the newer text messages he’d received from his friends, skimming through words of comfort and the aforementioned bathhouse suggestion from Chihiro. Shutting the phone, the gloomy Hall Monitor went ahead to the library, where Mukuro was of course signaling him from their table with a hand wave.

“I thought you could use some company,” Mukuro said. “It wouldn't be right of me to just ignore you in your time of need.”

“...Thank you, Mukuro-kun,” Ishimaru breathed very quietly. “You're so thoughtful to do something like this…”

“Hey, don't sweat it. Why don't we get a head start on our assignments? As the old saying goes: ‘Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today!’”

Still too emotionally numb to nod or show any signs of agreement, Ishimaru only opened his history textbook to the current class section. As Mukuro took down some notes, she gave Ishimaru suggestions on what to write down. He did just that, albeit in a shaky and strained manner.

“You also need to know what year we bombed Pearl Harbor,” Mukuro noted, watching Ishimaru write down the detailed information into his notebook. “Not to mention who instigated the attack.”

When Ishimaru wrote the last few words of the bombing followed by the name “Yamamoto Isoroku”, he put his pencil down and continued to look off into the book, distracted and utterly hollow. Before Mukuro could start on the next note, she saw Ishimaru sniffle once before a few tears dripped from his eyes and landed upon the book’s paper. She put her pencil down and decided to take a short break from the notes to focus on Ishimaru.

“I understand how hard things must be for you right now,” Mukuro said with empathy in her heart. “Just know it wasn't your fault in the slightest. Besides, you did take down Seventh with your own two hands, didn't you?”

Although he felt no hint of guilt at taking the life of his father’s murderer, Ishimaru only blinked wearily at Mukuro. The Soldier sighed again, placing a soft hand on Ishimaru's forearm. This at the very least got him to look at her, noticing the compassionate concern in her otherwise icy blue eyes.

“I truly wish there was more I could do to help you recover,” Mukuro told Ishimaru, gripping the limb slightly. “Even when I fix everything if I become God, I’m failing to be of much use while I’m still a regular person.”

“...That's not true,” Ishimaru breathed.

“What?”

“Mukuro… you’ve been among the only ones who have stuck by me after Father's death. Even… even if you can't heal me altogether, you’ve made efforts to help me along the way…”

“But if I can't cheer you up or make you happy, then what sort of ‘good friend’ am I?”

“A good friend… a good friend who still bothers to be there for someone who needs her… You’ve already done a lot just by coming to Father's burial and supporting me when I really needed someone…”

“It only felt right that I pay my respects to him. And, I thought you could use a moral crutch since it hit you the hardest.” Mukuro let her hand ease up a bit, sliding down to make contact with Ishimaru’s. “Kiyotaka, I’m always staunchly loyal to those I care about, so you can count on me for anything. And as a… friend, I can only encourage you move forward on the road to recovery. If such minor acts really benefit you, then I’ll continue to help you along, okay?”

Ishimaru couldn’t find enough strength in him to nod as an answer. However, when Mukuro looked closely at him in search of a response, she saw a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, trying so hard to make itself known to the world. It went completely noticed by the Soldier, who in turn gave a light smile herself before helping Ishimaru continue the lesson in order to stay atop in their studies.

* * *

Almost an hour passed, and Ishimaru left the library with Mukuro at around 10:04. Despite fearing the violation of the Hall Monitor’s aversion to PDA, the Soldier gave him a quick, yet meaningful hug to console and left, promising to see him later on. Ishimaru didn’t object, still very much out of sorts due to lingering and strong traumatic grief. And yet, the hug didn’t seem to bother him in a negative way either, instead accepting the feeling as he started to walk off. Suddenly, Mondo and Chihiro arrived at the library door where Ishimaru was, just like the Friendship Diary told the lattermost boy they would. He looked up at them, eyes still bleak and sullen, yet able to blink at least once.

“You doin’ alright, Taka?” Mondo asked with concern.

“Oowada-kun and I were just wondering if you still wanted to go to the bathhouse together,” Chihiro said. “Y-You always did like relaxing baths, s-so I thought it’d be something to help calm your nerves a little.”

“So, you wanna go, or what? It’s fine if ya don’t, we’re just suggesting it.”

“...Yes…” Ishimaru uttered through hardly opened lips and one nod. “Let’s go together…”

With that consent, Mondo and Chihiro walked towards the second floor of the school, arriving with Ishimaru beside them at the bathhouse. All three boys found temporary lockers of their own, removing their clothes and stuffing belongings into the small bathhouse sanctuaries. They grabbed clean white towels for the bath and headed into the steam filled and warm room, Mondo and Chihiro stepping right into the large pool of bath water and sinking in. Ishimaru on the other hand stepped in with his friends, but allowed himself to just idly sit in the water, troubled beyond all reason. Eyes sunken somewhat, Ishimaru let the water graze over his top lip, apathetic towards the bits that entered through the oral pathways.

“This… ain’t this relaxin’, Kyoudai?” Mondo asked, trying to get him in higher spirits.

“Y-Yes…” Ishimaru answered, bubbled garbling his speech somewhat before he pushed himself up a little from the water.

“Oowada-kun, remember Ishimaru-kun’s going through a tough time,” Chihiro reminded Mondo. “So, he’s still gonna be pretty out of it as a means to cope.”

“Yeah, but Taka seems so ‘bottled up’. Bro, if ya wanna let it out, go right ahead.”

Ishimaru did nothing, instead continuing to stare beyond the horizon with sorrow. Even though his mind was slightly less cloudy from his talk with Mukuro regarding her sense of loyalty, it was far from being enough to snap him out of his stupor of depression. As much as he wanted to summon all his strength to pour his heart out like the Diary said he would, something within Ishimaru prevented him from doing so.

“Ishimaru-kun?” Chihiro wondered. “Oowada-kun’s right, you really should just let it out. If you don’t, you won’t feel any better from keeping it all in.”

“...N-Not important…” Ishimaru breathed, looking away from his friends. “You guys will get annoyed quickly…”

“Kiyo, you’ve known us long enough to know that ain’t true,” Mondo said with a hazy look in his lavender eyes, taking a handful of soapy water and washing some of his body. “We’re your friends for a reason.”

“If we weren’t, then we wouldn’t want you to feel better,” Chihiro added. “Please, Taka-kun, we want to listen. You're not a burden for wanting to talk about how you feel.”

“How… how could I not be…?” Ishimaru wondered, tears welling up in his eyes and dripping down his cheeks. “I’m certain you guys will stop listening once I start overreacting…”

“Overre-- Kiyotaka!” Mondo barked, splashing the water backwards in a mild outrage. “Your dad just died! Nothin’, and I mean _nothin’_ you prolly have ta say is overreactin’!” Mondo quelled himself somewhat upon seeing Ishimaru look up with fragility in his eyes. “...Okay. All Chihiro and I are sayin’ is we’re here for ya.”

“All we want is to help you,” Chihiro insisted. “Whatever you’ve been holding back, you can tell us and we promise we’ll understand.”

“...D-Do you really…?” Ishimaru sniffled, more tears leaking from his eyes. “I won't sound troublesome to either of you?”

“Nope!” Mondo and Chihiro both assured their friend. “We promise we’ll understand, Taka.”

Like a river suddenly free of its oppressive dam, tears started flowing faster from Ishimaru eyes in sync with the mucus and drool from his nose and lips respectively. Sobs of pain and agony were ejected from Ishimaru with no restraint, prompting him to bury his leaking face in his palms and fail to catch a steady breath. Chihiro pulled Ishimaru into an embrace, Mondo doing the same as gently as he could.

“I FEEL SO HORRIBLE!” Ishimaru wailed through sniffles as Chihiro rubbed his bare backside. “I was in that same building when Father died, so I could have saved him! I’ve never felt so useless in my entire life! If anyone should have been killed back there, it should have been me!”

It all came out from there. Ishimaru let sobs wrack his body as he spouted more self-depreciative and remorseful things about the event that took his father’s life, careful to leave out anything that might hint at the Survival Game and the Friendship Diary. All the more, his friends kept him close to keep him comfortable, hanging onto each and every grief-wracked word coming from Ishimaru’s mouth.

“Why couldn’t it have been me instead?” Ishimaru choked, still sobbing and crying pretty hard. “At least if I’d been killed, my father would still be here! I-It would have been for the better, anyways…!”

“Taka, that ain’t true in the slightest,” Mondo insisted, now giving the Hall Monitor some elbow room. “If you died instead, think of how miserable Chi an’ I’d have been! Do ya really think I’d be _happy_ if I lost my best friend in the world?”

“Also, think of how horrible your dad would have felt if you got killed,” Chihiro added, still making contact with his friend while spreading out somewhat. “He’d have to spend the rest of his life thinking he couldn’t protect you when he should have. Your dad loved you as much as you love him.”

“O-Of course, but…” Ishimaru sniffled, “I just feel horrible for all of this. I miss my father, and I wish I acted fast enough to save his life! Maybe if I hadn’t been so careless, then everything would be fine again…”

“Ishimaru-kun, there wasn’t any way of telling your dad would wind up like that,” Chihiro insisted. “You’re not the one who should be blamed for all of this. None of it was your fault.”

“The only person at fault here was that girl Tsumiki they said did it,” Mondo pointed out, slight disgust as the name rolled off his tongue. “I’m sure wherever th’ fuck she’s hidin’, things must be shit fer her on the lam.”

“Right, how horrible things have to be for her…” Ishimaru breathed, holding his tongue about Mikan’s real fate thanks to his vengeful and previously bloody hands. “I guess it isn’t my fault, but how come I still feel so pained about all of this?”

“That’s just part of the grieving process,” Chihiro answered. “There’s no way around feeling horrible once you lose someone you care about. But, that’s why you have people like me and Oowada-kun to help you along and get better! Heck, even Ikusaba-san cares so much about you!”

“So really, we’re all willingly doin’ this fer your sake, Kiyotaka,” Mondo added. “We just wouldn’t be yer friends if we weren’t. It’s all because we care about ya and wanna see ya back on yer feet as soon as ya can.”

Ishimaru took in every syllable, every sentence his friends were saying. Although his chest still ached from emotional pain, he managed to sniffle and wipe away any tears and residue on his face with his hands that pruned up from the bathwater. In addition, a large portion of Ishimaru’s soul seemed to have regained feeling and relief from previous numbness. More tears leaked from his eyes, still dripping with enough sorrow and suffering that needed to be coped with. When Ishimaru wiped them away, he calmly assured Mondo and Chihiro that it wasn’t anything drastic at the moment, finally tending to washing his body with the tepid soapy water.

* * *

After the long bath session, the three friends left with clean towels around their equally clean waists. Using their respective towels to dry their bodies from head to toe, Mondo, Chihiro, and Ishimaru went over to the temporary lockers they were borrowing and started getting dressed. As he put his underwear and white pants on, Ishimaru looked at his two best friends. He recalled a time where he hadn’t a single person to call a “companion” due to his rugged and socially inept personality and compared it to the life he had now. From the long-resolved loneliness he felt back then, his friendship with Mondo, Chihiro, and even Mukuro and how much they’ve all proven to care for him was more refreshing than water to a traveler dying of dehydration. For once in a very long time, Ishimaru’s lips spread into a smile, heart finally warm with the thoughts on how far he’d come in finding others that care about him.

“Oi, Kyoudai!” Mondo called out once all three of them were fully dressed. “Chihiro an’ I were thinkin’ of takin’ ya somewhere this Friday! Ever been ta that really popular amusement park down the road? The one that's been around fer ages an' shit?”

“I can’t say I’ve really been to any amusement park, Kyoudai,” Ishimaru admitted. “They're typically just a distraction from my work, so I usually abstain from such things.”

“B-But, we thought it'd be such a nice thing to do together!” Chihiro insisted. “Maybe it’ll help clear your mind a little?”

“You could bring Ikusaba with ya,” Mondo suggested. “Considering you two have pretty much been goin’ everywhere together, ya might as well do this too.”

For some reason, Ishimaru’s heart got warm at the thought of going somewhere with Mukuro again without having to stress over someone wanting them dead. The thought also brought a light coloring to his cheeks, but Ishimaru passed it off as his companionship with Mukuro and nothing more. Now that he thought about it, it would be somewhat uncalled for to just up and refuse two people who’d been helping him out, so he chose to eradicate the option to say no to an occasion with potential.

“I’ll see if I can make arrangements in my schedule,” Ishimaru decided. “I’m looking forward to it!”

“That's the spirit!” Chihiro beamed. “We're leaving this Friday at around seven.”

“Sometimes it's cheaper in the evening, so we're goin’ when it’s best,” Mondo stated. “See ya then, Taka!”

“Guys?” Ishimaru called out rather mildly.

“Yeah, Taka?” Mondo and Chihiro both responded.

“...Thank you both so much,” Ishimaru told them, smiling humbly at last. “I don't know where I’d be without my friends.”

Mondo and Chihiro both smiled back, leaving the bathhouse with their friend before going their separate ways for now. Right on a future schedule, Ishimaru quickly met up with Mukuro, who was pleased to see the Hall Monitor looking comparably more alive than before.

“I take it the bath with Oowada-kun and Fujisaki-san helped?” Mukuro wondered.

“Quite a bit,” Ishimaru answered. “It's still going to take a while to deal with Father’s departure, but I should be more able to cope efficiently now. And I have Kyoudai, Chihiro-kun, and yourself to thank for that.”

“You have my utmost of sincerity. I care about you so much and I want to see you get back on your feet again, Kiyotaka. After all, just who was it that told me ‘there comes a time to mourn the departed, but even that can’t keep going on and on with no end’?”

“The same person who found a way to heal because he’s got others to help him along.” Ishimaru pointed to himself, instantly reminded of Mukuro’s recited words. “Oh, and Mukuro! There’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

“What is it?”

“Kyoudai, Chihiro-kun and I are planning on visiting an amusement park this Friday evening. Would you like to accompany us? I’m sure you’d have fun!”

“An amusement park? I can’t say I’ve really been to one of those, so I don’t know what I’ll think of it.”

“It’s alright, this is the first time I’ve gone too! We can experience the amusement together if you want to go this Friday. So, do you?”

Pinching her chin, Mukuro let a quiet “hmm…” pass her nostrils, thinking hard on the possibility. Ishimaru’s eyes flashed upwards with slight disappointment, fearing his companion would refuse the offer. That disappointed feeling, however, would fade quickly once he heard the answer Mukuro let out of her mouth.

“I would be honored to join you and your friends,” Mukuro agreed with a rather bright smile, Ishimaru’s heart fluttering a bit from the sight of her lips creasing upwards. “I’ll begin making preparations posthaste.”

“Splendid!” Ishimaru proclaimed. “I’ll see you then, Mukuro.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Kiyotaka. Feel better soon!”

Mukuro left, already making plans for the event that would unfold come Friday night. Ishimaru looked at the time on his phone, moving along to his next class. The pain in his heart about recent events was still going strong, not yet ready to go away. Such a feeling made Ishimaru sigh wistfully, all the more sullen and mournful for his deceased father. However, instead of freezing up into another state of catatonia via emotional suppression, Ishimaru let the feeling pass through his body like the blood coursing through his veins. If not for the friends who wanted to see him conquer his time of agony, the SHSL Hall Monitor would have surely regressed back into his fortnight-long emotional slump.

Because of those people he knew who unconditionally loved him, Ishimaru promised himself he’d work towards reclaiming his peace. Although more than fully aware such terrible grief wasn’t going away any time soon, the Prefect wasn’t about to let that cripple him for the rest of his days.


	21. Night 37: Hirakata Park's Growing Frenzy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses are... good!:
> 
> SHSL Guest: You're gonna have to see how it ties into the story. I'm not revealing anything regarding spoilers, but... eh, just read the rest. Also, as for why Taichi's alive but Yuta isn't, this verse is different from DR: AE's.

Late in the afternoon the Friday that followed, the streets of Hirakata were busy with citizens waiting to get around the city for their evening of planned activities. Amongst the excited crowd, however, walked a boy aged around seventeen years who didn’t quite seem to share the excitement with the strangers around him.

Instead of having his own plans, the boy gazed at his black cellphone jagged with dark violet streaks, a charm depicting a “demonic” feline tied to the bottom. Lengthy, yet soft plum fabric blew against the wind behind him while still wrapped around the boy’s pale face. He paid only heed to the up-to-date entries on his phone screen, occasionally looking around for a certain someone ready to pop up out of nowhere.

“The demented one appears to be concealed from my line of sight,” he remarked in his deep, bass-like voice. “However, it isn’t wise to assume I’m forever safeguarded yet! Deceptive creatures such as him might just--”

Without allowing him to finish his sentence, the mysterious boy’s cell phone made a loud static sound not unlike that of a dysfunctional television, changing the words on the screen entirely. The topmost entry read “17:45 [Maga-Z]: The demented one ambushes my master from an alleyway exactly east of his temporary form in this Earthly realm.”, which matched up with a time occurring less than three minutes from then. The boy saw he was approaching the aforementioned alleyway, nearly flinching when a small, chip-eared hamster with brown and white fur scamper swiftly until it was picked up by the scarf-adorned boy.

“So, that’s where you’ve run off to, Maga-Z,” he crooned softly, putting the creature back into the safety of his scarf. “Thanks to your scouting, we’ll be able to evade our onlooker!”

Right before he was due to meet his minor fate, the boy crossed the street hastily, keeping heed of the passing cars as he at last reached the other side. He kept running, hoping his speed would outrun his abhorrent observer as his cell phone updated its future from the change. Now, it read “17:45 [Maga-Z] No longer is the demented one in sight, but we must continue to evade him at every feasible opportunity!”, giving the boy the chance to look back and forth for the one he was avoiding. When he wasn’t anywhere around him, the boy let out a booming chuckle of apparent victory.

“You are clearly not among the nondescript mortals, but you reign inferior nonetheless!” he cackled, confident and proud as his scarf blow backwards for a moment. “With the unblemished Divine Beast Diary in my possession, the one who shall ascend to the divinity he was so denied in this life is the one, the only--!”

“Gundam Tanaka, aka, Thirteenth,” the voice of Nagito Komaeda finished, startling Gundam into a yelp. “While your Future Diary is certainly as unique as you are, it’s in no way flawless.”

“I may have failed to escape your foul presence, but I assure you, demented one! My Divine Beast Diary has no weaknesses!”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t be so sure. If not for those cute little hamsters of yours, your Diary couldn’t make a single prediction because it’d have no one’s perspective to record.”

“You _dare_ ridicule the Four Dark Gods Of Destruction by referring to them as mere ‘hamsters’?! Unless you wish to face my divine wrath, I beseech you to retract your misguided statement!”

“As I was saying, four small creatures aren’t always going to have the most _accurate_ of foresight. What they see might not even be the real deal, Tanaka-kun. And if not that, then your 'Four Dark Gods' might pick up on something more useless than I am.”

“Preposterous! I can assure you, the Four Dark Gods Of Destruction have excellent foresight!” As Gundam boasted about them, four furry little heads popped out of his scarf, fur color and shape differing for each hamster. Their owner allowed them to scamper onto his hand, two on the bare palm, two resting upon a bandage-wrapped surface. “Oh, how pitiful it is you fail to see their true power. These… devas that have chosen me as their vessel, if only you could acknowledge the terror they strike into the hearts of such perishable beings!” Gundam continued to boast, his voice somewhat softer as he looked at the Four Dark Gods with a warm gaze.

“Yes, I’d bet it is quite a shame no one can see that,” Komaeda sighed, humoring Gundam with false remorse. “So, moving on, I’m quite impressed with the progress you’ve made in tracking down different Diary Holders. Oh wait! You’ve haven’t any luck yet, have you, Tanaka-kun?” he asked, unaware of how snide his tone sounded.

“Such victories will come in their time,” Gundam growled while the Four Dark Gods returned to their scarf sanctuary, folding his arms and turning away from Komaeda with annoyance. “Excluding myself, there are only five remaining pawns to be eliminated before I so rightfully rise as the God I was destined to become.”

“And how many have you found since your received your ‘Divine’ Beast Diary? Zero. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you need serious help and you’ve just been avoiding it.”

“I require no assistance! I may only be the Thirteenth Holder of these sacred Future Diaries, but I’m fully capable of locating my opponents!”

“Whatever you say, Thirteenth. But, if you want my advice, go to where there’s plenty of people. That just might push you in the right direction if you wanna win the Survival Game so badly.”

“Hmph, subjecting myself to being around common folk will do nothing. There isn’t a thing wrong with my search!”

“Look, I’m only here to help you, Thirteenth. I’m willing to bet if you take my advice, you’ll get some new leads. But hey! I didn’t expect trash like myself to actually be taken seriously by anyone. I just thought someone with such high self-esteem would do anything to become God, even if it means taking silly ideas from me. Guess not.”

With a shrug, Komaeda pretended to walk off, taking slow steps as Gundam battled thoughts in his head. Gundam saw clearly that Komaeda was goading him, but as much as he didn’t want to take advice from someone so “lowly”, his desire to become God was ten times stronger. The second Gundam shouted “Take no more steps further!”, Komaeda obeyed with a sly smirk on his face.

“Oh, so you do want my help,” Komaeda noted before facing Gundam and scratching his chin. “In hindsight, I lack the ability to just tell you where every remaining Diary Holder is. But, as my dear Izuru-sama’s one and only Observer, I can at least try. My excessive luck hasn’t betrayed me yet.”

“Humor me with your insolent prattle of fortune if you must. Once I’m God, I’ll be sure you aren’t an exception to the mortals I intend to dispose of.”

“Well, let’s go where there’s lots of people. All the Diary Holders are close to your age, so we’re bound to find a place where the youth love to tread. Why don’t we start down the road?”

Sighing, Gundam hadn’t a chance but to comply, following Komaeda down the concreted path stretching through the city. He put the hand covered in bandages to his scarf, calming the trembling Four Dark Gods nestled within the violet fabric by holding them close and uttering soothing incantations. He closed the Divine Beast Diary, concealing it within a pocket in his black long coat as Komaeda continued to lead him to their destination without much care for anything but his mission.

* * *

Meanwhile at Hope’s Peak Academy, Ishimaru was in his room tidying up for the evening with his friends that awaited him. At the wishes of his three comrades, he had on a collared light blue shirt under a midnight blue short-sleeved open jacket, gray-brown belted pants over brown ankle boots. With his Friendship Diary safe and sound in his red string bag next to his wallet and empty water bottle, Ishimaru did one last appearance inspection in the mirror before exiting the room with his needed bag and locking his door.

Ishimaru went three rooms down from his own, knocking on the door belonging to Mukuro. He got a “just a minute” originating from the other side as the Soldier in question finished up her preparations for the night. Ishimaru waited for Mukuro patiently, the door opening up a few minutes after he’d arrived. He looked at her, blinking in surprise at how nicely she’d cleaned up. On Mukuro was a black tank top showing a bit of the puce bra beneath, dark blue capris jeans rolled up a little past the knee, and royal purple sneakers tied neatly over black no show socks. Her black bob was brushed neatly, appearing as though the sidetails were slightly longer than the back. Mukuro had just finished putting her Tactics Diary in her camouflage purse when she looked up to see Ishimaru staring directly at her appearance, his cheeks pinkening somewhat.

“What? Do I not look presentable?” Mukuro asked with some worry to her tone.

“On the contrary!” Ishimaru piped up, smiling at her, “You look amazing, Mukuro! Quite beautiful, even!”

“Thank you. I’ll say the same about you, Kiyotaka. That outfit looks quite dashing on you.”

“You have my thanks! It’s certainly nothing compared to my school uniform, but I suppose it’s not too bad if you say so. Are you ready for our evening with Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun?”

“I’m ready. Where are they?”

“Mondo said he and Chihiro will meet us near the school’s entrance. Come on! Let’s not keep them waiting!”

Ishimaru and Mukuro walked through the first floor of their school, not taking long to get to the foyer. There waiting for them were Mondo and Chihiro, donning more casual outfits than their usual ones along with string bags of their own. Mondo wore a red T-shirt underneath an unzipped black hoodie, denim jeans with holes in the knees, dark red sneakers, and a studded bracelet matching the hoodie in color on his wrist. Chihiro’s unique attire for the evening consisted of a jade green blouse, elastic black leggings underneath jean shorts that stopped mid-thigh, cherry red sneakers, and a sea blue headband rested across his auburn hair-covered scalp.

“C’mon, it’s almost six and it takes like forty minutes ta get there!” Mondo pointed out, making his way out of the school with the others. “We wanna have enough time before we gotta come back fer ten!”

“Ikusaba-san, is this your first time going to Hirakata Park?” Chihiro asked Mukuro.

“Yes,” Mukuro answered calmly, keeping a fairly imperturbable expression. “In fact, this is my first amusement park visit, so I don’t know what to expect from it.”

“W-Well, Mama and Papa used to take me more when I was little. B-But, I remember having a mostly good time when I did go! I’m sure you won’t be disappointed, Ikusaba-san.”

“Only the future can tell, Fujisaki-san.”

They all made it to Yodoyabashi Station down the road, purchasing a ticket each from the booth near the front. Once all four students had their train passes for the Keihan Line, they made their way through a crowd of people, at last crossing the metro threshold and getting onto the train once their tickets were properly checked.

It didn’t take long for the train to start taking off after everyone got aboard and the doors of the vessel shut tight. As the train moved through the night, the four Hope’s Peak students started to think about what lied in store for all of them at Hirakata Park. Mondo, Chihiro, and Ishimaru were quite verbal, discussing plans amongst each other. Mukuro, however, kept to herself and thought about what kind of experience she was supposed to have there. Not only that, but something else seemed to have caught her mind.

 _“Naegi-kun probably would have enjoyed such an experience,”_ Mukuro thought, cheeks becoming slightly rosy at the mere thought of her first love. _“If he were still with me, could I have asked him to go as my date? Not that it really matters anymore…”_

“Mukuro?” Ishimaru wondered, only to go unheard by the girl.

_“I wonder what a date there would have been like? Maybe I could’ve had something with him, if only I’d just been--”_

“Mukuro, is everything alright?” Ishimaru asked, getting her attention at last.

“Err, yes. I'm okay, Kiyotaka. Merely a little dazed is all. How long until we reach our destination?”

“It could be some time. Until then, why don't we talk a little amongst ourselves? Perhaps discuss more plans of merriment together?”

“I’m… not too much in the mood to talk right now.”

“Why? Is something bothering you?”

“It isn't important. Just give me a little time to think and I’ll be more than happy to converse.”

Mukuro continued tending to her thoughts, thinking about Naegi with heavy melancholy. What made them all the more conflicting was the bushy-browed Hall Monitor sitting next to her with a concerned look in his eyes. She hadn't a clue why, but something about Ishimaru made her feel… strange, in a familiar, yet rather warm sort of sense. However, Mukuro diverted her thoughts back to memories of the late Naegi, her heart still beating with a living desire for him.

Ishimaru on the other hand had his attention stolen by the glum Mukuro. Just the sight of seeing her act distant from him again brought worry to his soul, wanting nothing more than to console her in any way like she had him. Upon feeling a tap on his shoulder, Ishimaru yelped before turning to face the perpetrator in the form of Mondo, who gave his friend an odd look.

“...Yes, Mondo?” Ishimaru wondered. “What is it?”

“I think you know what,” Mondo answered vaguely, a small smirk creeping on his lips. “And don't worry, Chi an’ I got your back.”

“Huh?” Chihiro wondered, hearing his name. “Are we backing Ishimaru-kun on something else?”

“Y’know, Kid,” Mondo hinted, wagging his index finger back and forth from the confused Ishimaru to the distant Mukuro.

“O-Oh yeah, that's right! Ishimaru-kun, Oowada-kun and I are right behind you if you need us!”

“Thank… you?” Ishimaru said obliviously. _“What on Earth are they talking about? Why is Mukuro involved?”_

“Kiyotaka-kun,” Mukuro spoke at last, getting Ishimaru's attention immediately. “What do you plan on doing for your first amusement park visit?”

“Oh, I don't have too much experience, but perhaps I’ll accompany you guys on the rides!” Ishimaru answered. “And as long as we follow park conduct and stay together, it’ll be a blast!”

As the train moved closer to Hirakata Park, Ishimaru and Mukuro started conversing about what they expected of the park. In the mix, Ishimaru told Mukuro some interesting facts he’d researched about the park, including it being around since 1910. Mukuro put a curved finger to her lips when Ishimaru informed her that made the park the oldest in Japan, completely intrigued by such knowledge. While the two conversed about the topic, smiles appeared on their faces as if they were nothing. Mondo and Chihiro observed the scene, smiling to themselves on how happy their friend was with Ishimaru, seeing something beyond the sight.

* * *

By twenty minutes of seven, the Keihan Line stopped at its destination of Hirakata, Osaka. Everyone aboard got off, hurrying to their own places in the city. Mondo, Chihiro, Ishimaru, and Mukuro all left Hirakata-kōen Station. It took them all a good three minutes to reach Hirakata Park’s front gates, standing in line to pay admission. After a bit more time was spent waiting, the quartet finally reached the front.

“That will be ¥1,400, please,” the person behind the glass box said.

“Alright, here’s mine,” Mondo said, paying the admission fee.

“Here you go,” Chihiro piped in, handing over the ¥1,400. “And let me pay for my friend too.”

“Chihiro-kun! You don’t have to do that,” Ishimaru interrupted.

“But I thought we agreed on it,” Chihiro brought up. “Really, Ishimaru-kun. It’s on me.”

“Unacceptable! I won’t allow you to pay more money all for my sake! At least let me pay ¥700. Maybe even more!”

“I-I insist, Taka…” Chihiro uttered, hesitating to take out the extra money, stopping when Mukuro walked forward nonchalantly.

“Here’s ¥1,400 for my admission,” Mukuro told the person in the box before taking out ¥1,000 and handing it to the person. “And this is a portion of my comrade’s payment.”

“Mukuro! You didn’t…” Ishimaru was about to object until Mukuro walked back to him without a word. He sighed, accepting defeat and paying the remaining ¥400 for his park admission. “Here’s the rest.”

“You four have fun! Enjoy your time at the park!” the person in the box chirped, handing the Hope’s Peak students strong paper bracelets as proof of payment.

“Mukuro, I’m more than grateful for the aid in paying for my admission,” Ishimaru spoke when all four of them were in the park, “but you really didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t. I wanted to,” Mukuro noted with minimal feeling in her tone. “The plans for tonight were to ensure we all have fun _together_ , so I wanted to make things easier on you and Fujisaki-san.”

“A-Also, w-we didn’t want you to pay so much after all you’ve been through,” Chihiro added, taking four complementary maps of the park from a stand. “It’s part of being a good friend.”

Ishimaru saw the sincerity in Chihiro’s kitten-like light brown eyes and Mukuro’s chilly gray-blue ones. He dared not argue any further lest such a debate go on longer than it needed to. Instead, he thanked his friends for their generosity and looked at the map Chihiro gave him.

“Now! I believe a proper procedure for this park is to go on the more gentle rides!” Ishimaru declared, pointing at the first ideal ride.

“Yeah, like hell,” Mondo rejected, pointing to the first extreme ride on the map. “If there’s any ride I’m goin’ on, it’s _that_ baby!”

They all looked up where Mondo was excitedly pointing, seeing the Gang Leader had his sights on the red roller coaster cars screaming as they zipped across white tracks that seemingly went everywhere at obnoxious speeds. While Mukuro looked on without much of an opinion, Ishimaru and Chihiro gulped a bit at how extreme the ride looked.

“Th-That must be the… ‘Red Falcon’,” Chihiro pointed out with a shaky finger.

“I forbid it! That death trap is far too unsafe to ride!” Ishimaru objected, shaking his head furiously.

“If it wasn’t safe, then they wouldn’t have put it in the park, Kyoudai,” Mondo said, walking ahead towards where the line began. “Y’comin’, Ikusaba?”

“I’m right behind you,” Mukuro answered with indifference, following Mondo. “It doesn’t look at all frightening. Are you two coming?”

“We’ll… take a raincheck for now,” Ishimaru insisted. “You two go on ahead while Chihiro-kun and I look around for a bit as we wait.”

Mukuro nodded, continuing to go with Mondo to the shortening line as Ishimaru and Chihiro wandered around near the Red Falcon’s entrance after following halfway. They both looked up at the roller coaster, seeing the ride pick up speed with its screaming riders aboard. The mere sight of every drop and rush made the two all the more apprehensive, Chihiro visibly more frightened than the unsure Ishimaru.

Ishimaru decided to take the Friendship Diary out of his bag and check for any particular events that might happen to his comrades. When he opened it, the future made a loud update with its traditional television-like static, disposing of former entries to make way for new ones. First, one at the top read “18:54: Chihiro-kun decides on waiting in the park with me instead of going on the Red Falcon. He doesn’t appear to be the ‘roller coaster type’, it appears…” right above the entry “18:59: Chihiro-kun finds and immediately befriends a random white-and-orange hamster. Honestly, he should know better than to pick up strange animals that shouldn’t even be in the park to begin with!”.

In regards to Ishimaru’s other two friends, the cell phone predicted “19:03: Kyoudai and Mukuro finally get on the ride, but only Mukuro keeps her cool. That’s what he gets for biting off more than he can chew!” and “19:08: Kyoudai and Mukuro reunite with us after the ride ends, my dear brother pretending to ‘play it cool’. Mondo, you really aren’t fooling anyone with that façade…”. Finally, Ishimaru’s Friendship Diary foretold of one more future event, reading “19:09: Mukuro takes note of the hamster Chihiro-kun found, and is just as infatuated as he is. It seems Mukuro-kun has a penchant for living creatures too. How adorable!”. The last two words of that one entry made Ishimaru blink in surprise, wondering why his Diary would say something so cheeky about his female friend.

“Aww, hello there!” Chihiro said from the side, Ishimaru turning around to see the Hacker of course picked up a white-and-orange hamster nibbling on a sunflower seed with the utmost care. “Did you lose your owner, little fella?”

The little hamster nuzzled up to Chihiro’s palm, taking an apparent liking to the boy. Chihiro put his new furry friend onto his shoulder, the sight unnerving Ishimaru slightly. Nonetheless, all the Hall Monitor saw was his friend growing attached to a hamster, so personal conduct aside, no major harm was being done. Not to mention, he didn’t think it was right of him to upset Chihiro by taking away something he already held dear to him.

Less than a few minutes later, Mondo and Mukuro came off the ride, the former looking somewhat uneasy and stirred from the high speed whilst the girl who accompanied him appeared as though she never went on. Once close enough to Ishimaru and Chihiro, Mondo straightened up and played it cool, pretending as if he had the same reaction to the ride as Mukuro. At the act, Ishimaru let out a few low snickers, yet rolling his eyes back briefly from such silliness.

“Pffft, ya call that a ride?” Mondo scoffed. “That was more like a kiddie coaster!”

“You were screaming and freaking out the entire time,” Mukuro said boredly. “If anything, that coaster was at the very least adequate.”

“Haha… oh, Ikusaba! Didn’t take ya fer the comedian type!” Mondo turned to Ishimaru, pointing at Mukuro with his thumb. “I can see why ya fancy ‘er so much! Jokin’ about how I freaked out over a little roller coaster!”

“Fancy?” Ishimaru wondered, biting a little of his lower lip. “What are you talking--”

“--Oh, guys!” Chihiro interrupted, coming over with the hamster in his palms. “Check out what I found! Isn’t it adorable?”

“...A hamster,” Mukuro pointed out, eyes widening somewhat as she got a closer look at the thing with pinkening cheeks. “Where did you find it?”

“It was just scurrying around the park all lost. I could just let the poor thing get stepped on. S-So, before we go home, I’d like to find its owner! Isn’t it cute?”

“Very,” Mukuro agreed, eyes glued to the hamster cutely nibbling on its sunflower seed. “Perhaps we should… keep a close eye on it. Just in case the owner doesn’t show up.”

As Chihiro and Mukuro openly gushed over the adorable critter in the former’s palms, Ishimaru stared particularly at Mukuro with a light smile on his face. He watched her give the hamster a ruddy smile of her own, such joy in the typically collected smile a sight to be preserved. Ishimaru only snapped out of it when Mondo waved a hand in front of him, the male with the corn-shaped pompadour smirking rather proudly.

“Knew it,” was all Mondo said, provoking Ishimaru's confusion.

“Knew _what_ , Kyoudai?” Ishimaru questioned with a raised thick brow.

“Oh, nothin’. Except the fact that you’ve got a thing for Ikusaba.”

“What sort of ‘thing’ would I have for Mukuro? If you're saying we share a special connection, then you're right! We're the closest of friends, we are!”

“No, by ‘thing’, I mean ya like her. As in, _more_ than a friend.”

“Meaning…?”

Now Mondo was starting to get exceedingly frustrated with his dense friend, slapping his forehead and running the hand downwards. Ishimaru clearly hadn't understood a word despite Mondo not being all too vague. Unable to take much patience anymore, Mondo made himself nice and clear.

“ _Meaning_ , ya’ve got a goddamn crush on Ikusaba!” Mondo growled, pointing directly at the unsuspecting Mukuro to get his point further across.

“A… crush?!” Ishimaru practically gasped, face quickly filling up with a red color. “No, no no no! That can't be right! Mukuro and I are just friends is all!”

“Taka, you’ve been starin’ an’ smilin’ at her 24/7, yer always in a perky mood around ‘er, and I’m pretty sure you two are almost always together! How do ya explain that?”

“That only signifies our close camaraderie, Kyoudai! There's nothing wrong with that!”

“No, there ain't. But, you--” Mondo stopped himself, thinking of yet another test to prove himself right. “Alright, tell me about Ikusaba. Who is that girl Ikusaba to ya?”

“Oh boy, where do I start? First of all, Mukuro may seem like some apathetic and bloodthirsty psychopath, but she’s actually the sweetest, most thoughtful girl you’ll ever meet!” Ishimaru began, feeling his mood brighten suddenly as he merrily went into detail. “Below such a rocky exterior is someone who just wants to be accepted as the human being she is. Mukuro not only works her hardest to be an exemplary warrior and student, but she also uses her skills wisely on only those who truly mean harm! She also has quite a fondness for ‘cutesy’ things and sweet food in addition to having the most lovely smile! Why, just a few weeks back, I gave her this wolf doll, and she--”

Ishimaru stopped his blabbering, realizing how many wonderful things he’d said about Mukuro. Putting a hand to his florid face, he looked at the sly Mondo, who nodded his head as if confirming something. Ishimaru turned his head to Mukuro, who looked right back from her chat with Chihiro with an intrigued expression. The second she made eye contact with Ishimaru, he merely waved sheepishly to tell her nothing was wrong. Once the only eyes on him were Mondo's somewhat smug ones, Ishimaru gave a floridly shocked face, mind trying to comprehend it all.

“P-Perhaps it’s possible that I do harbor… certain feelings towards Mukuro,” Ishimaru guessed, speaking low enough so Mukuro wouldn't hear him. “Oh, this is awful! I'm the SHSL Hall Monitor! Such depraved emotions will surely go against my conduct! Kyoudai, what should I do?”

“Tell her,” Mondo suggested. “And before you get all uptight about it, bein’ in love has no effect on your moral code. It's just somethin’ tons of people feel, and they act the damn same. If I were you, I’d confess now while I’ve got the chance.”

“I can't just do that! What if she doesn't feel the same and I lose such a wonderful friend because she'll never look at me the same way again?”

“You won't know unless ya try. Besides, Ikusaba’s pretty keen on ya herself, so I’m sure she won't see you as some other person.”

Chihiro and Mukuro came over at that moment, the former holding the map and moving forward with his friends as his new hamster friend rested in a pocket on the Hacker’s blouse. As the quartet walked through the park, Ishimaru's Friendship Diary made a noisy update to its future, prompting Ishimaru to check up on it.

 _“‘19:18: Kyoudai goads me into going on an incredibly steep ride because I didn't go on the last one. It's apparent my friend is trying to get me killed.’,”_ Ishimaru read in his mind, looking at the next one. _“‘19:19: Mukuro decides to go on with me, earning me support from Mondo and Chihiro. I'm not ready to inform her of any potential attraction beyond our friendship!’.”_

Below that entry was one that said “19:26: Mukuro offers to hold my hand as the ride takes us upwards. PDA is highly inappropriate, I couldn't subject myself to such extremes! And yet…”. The very thought of doing something he perceived as “extreme” send a surge of nervousness through his pulsing heart. Suddenly, he heard Mondo exclaim something.

“Taka, guess who's goin’ on _that_ bad boy?” Mondo asked, pointing to a red bouncing tower that had to be about 50 feet tall in Ishimaru's widened eyes.

“I hope it's you!” Ishimaru breathed, feeling the air leave his lungs at the sight of the ride.

“Are you crazy? I just had a near-death experience on that last--” Mondo stopped himself before he could finish. “I mean, nope! The lucky rider’s none other than you!”

“Sorry, Kyoudai! I’d like to live to see my next birthday, so I will not partake in riding a death trap! It's far too unsafe!”

“Damn, that's a shame. An’ here I am thinkin’ ya actually had enough balls ta take on one little ride.”

Blinking once, Ishimaru took immediate offense to the statement. He was about to say something in retaliation, but realized that's just what Mondo wanted. Mondo noticed his friend tried staying strong, so he brought it all home in one statement.

“Fine. Guess you ain't man enough to go on,” Mondo teased with hazy eyes and a smirk. “Thought you weren't such a chicken over a little thing like this.”

“I accept your challenge!” Ishimaru snapped, surrendering his string bag to Mondo. “I’m more than man enough to ride!”

“Great! Have fun!”

Ishimaru curled his pointing index finger inwards as he realized he’d just given into the future. Defeated, Ishimaru looked up at his fate, watching the people bounce upwards and downwards with screams of adrenaline coming out of them. Gulping a bit of throat fluid down, Ishimaru braced himself and started marching towards the line until Mukuro went right next to him.

“I’ll go on with you,” Mukuro told Ishimaru, making him flinch somewhat. “If you're frightened, then some company will make things easier.”

“Very well then!” Ishimaru blurted out, accepting Mukuro's decision. “I’d be more than happy to go with you, Mukuro!” he told her with a bright smile.

Now it was Mukuro's turn to become rather flustered, putting a curled index finger and pinched thumb to her mouth as the freckled-covered flesh on her face turned a bright pink. The very sight of Ishimaru's smile made Mukuro feel internally warm and safe, yet simultaneously uncomfortable from how much it reminded her of the only other person who would ever bother to look at her like that. Taking a deep breath, the rosy Mukuro calmed herself and walked towards the ride with Ishimaru. Ishimaru felt just as disconcerted, the feeling getting worse when he saw Mondo giving him a proud thumbs up and Chihiro clapping for him happily.

While Mondo and Chihiro went to sit down together at a nearby bench, they were left unaware of the passing presence of Gundam Tanaka, who was temporarily alone with his hamsters after Komaeda followed Ishimaru and Mukuro to the tall red ride’s line. Gundam took a look at his recently updated Divine Beast Diary, reading two slightly older entries saying “18:59 [Sun-D]: A mortal with a delicate physical form has taken me captive after I separated from Lord Gundam. According to them, my smaller form is quite ‘cute’.” and “19:01 [Sun-D]: The gentle mortal’s thick-browed friend’s phone made the same future signification noise as Lord Gundam’s, foolishly revealing his identity as the Sixth Diary Holder.” As if those words weren’t encouraging enough, among the newer entries were predictions such as “19:19 [Sun-D]: The Sixth has departed with The Fifth to an unusual red contraption that induces consensual terror within the hearts of the mortals.”, “19:22: [Cham-P]: I’ve taken refuge with the others beside Sixth’s friends. At least this way, we’ll be able to inform Lord Gundam at each turn.”, “19:23 [Jum-P]: The corn-shaped sanctuary I’ve been placed in is endearingly comfortable. Almost enough to take a nice nap…”, and the final new prediction reading “19:26 [Maga-Z]: The Fifth and The Sixth have made it onto their ride. Now we just await their return in order to strike for Lord Gundam.”

“So, my Supernova Silver Fox has found a temporary vessel to lead us further,” Gundam chuckled, closing his Divine Beast Diary and smirking. “I was starting to worry, but now she has begun infiltration by commanding a delicate mortal to obey her!” The remaining Dark Gods were taken out of his scarf and given a look of worry from Gundam, who set them down carefully to proceed with the secret investigation.

“My precious friends,” Gundam uttered to them, “I wish you all the most fortunate of prosperity on this perilous task. But worry not! Once we dispose of The Sixth and his accomplice, you all shall ascend to a higher tier of divinity the moment I reclaim my throne as the next God!” With one open hand thrust forward, Gundam sent the remaining three hamsters in the direction of the unsuspecting Mondo and Chihiro. “Now, go forth! Jum-P! Maga-Z! Cham-P! Three of my Four Dark Gods Of Destruction!”

The remaining three Dark Gods Of Destruction scurried forth at their owner’s command, playing off the act of helpless lost pets while Gundam stayed hidden amongst the crowd and kept an eye on them. He saw them get all cozy and cute with Chihiro, who picked them up at first sight.

“Oowada-kun, look! More adorable hamsters!” Chihiro beamed, showing Mondo drowsy Jum-P and the rotund Cham-P while Maga-Z rested on the smaller boy’s lap. “I think they’re the first one’s friends!”

“Geez, more hamsters?” Mondo wondered, taking Jum-P into his palm and scratching its cheek. “Kid, you know we can’t keep any of ‘em. Someone obviously lost these guys.”

“I know…” Chihiro sighed as Sun-D scurried up next to Maga-Z. “But, that doesn’t mean we can’t look after them until we find their owner!”

“True. Without us, somethin’ bad’s sure ta happen to these things.” Mondo put Jum-P into his dyed corn-shaped pompadour, letting the little creature doze right off while still getting plenty of oxygen. “The second we find their owner, we gotta give ‘em back though. Capiche?”

“Got it.” Chihiro continued to beam at the four hamsters, snuggling the three ones he had with him against his soft face. “Until then, they’re out four little guests!”

From afar, Gundam watched as the predictions on his Future Diary came true one at a time. Although the sight of someone underestimating the Four Dark Gods was both sickening and humorous, what elated him altogether was how smoothly his plan was starting out. Chuckling darkly to himself, Gundam remained hidden, awaiting any fortunate predictions his Divine Beast Diary would bring him and move him along the road to victorious godhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Godly Alignment: Tanaka Gundam = Hades/Pluto (I'm not even gonna say it lol). So yeah, Zeke! You were right the first time when you said Gundam is our dark and ominous Underworld God! I just didn't wanna reveal any Diary Holders before they show up is all. Artemis would have been a good second choice, but Hades seemed best.
> 
> Fun fact: I wrote the Japanese names of every SG player's Future Diary (IE: Ishimaru's is the "Yuujou Nikki", Mukuro's is the "Sakusen Nikki", etc.), and Gundam's "Divine Beast Diary" is officially known as the "Kedamono Nikki", the first word translating into "beast" only. So, he pretty much added the "divine" part because he's, y'know, /Gundam/ XD.


	22. Night 37 Part 2: Friday The Thirteenth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> Zeke: I take it you're a fan of Gundam XD. I've actually had experience with writing for Gundam in previous stories on this site, so it wasn't that hard (especially since I just Googled a lot of synonyms for simple words). And yeah, "kedamono" translates to simply "beast"; Gun-Gun just added the "divine" part bc he's full of it.
> 
> SHSL Guest: I always answer question in chapter notes to avoid spamming the comments section. Any non-spoiler questions you have will be answered by yours truly! Also, in that case, you're gonna like this chapter juuuuust fine~ ♥

“Mukuro, I’m starting to have second thoughts!” Ishimaru exclaimed after the ride attendant fastened him and the ex-mercenary in seconds after they reached the towering Giant Drop Meteor.

“It will be alright, Kiyotaka,” Mukuro assured him calmly as she herself was strapped to her seat. “I’m sure whatever this ride has to throw at us, it’s neither mortal nor dangerous. Merely thrilling.”

“Well, considering how high we’re expected to go up, I can’t be so sure.”

“I take it you’re not having fun?” a voice asked, making Ishimaru and Mukuro turn to see the source was Komaeda, who was strapped into the seat on the Hall Monitor’s right.

“Komaeda-kun?!” Ishimaru gasped. “Quite a coincidence you’d be here!”

“You haven’t followed us, have you?” Mukuro questioned with a raised brow.

“That I indeed haven’t, Ikusaba-san,” Komaeda answered. “Call it my excessively good luck that has brought us all together. No, I’m here with an… associate, if you will.”

“Are they on this ride?” Ishimaru asked.

“No. As a matter of fact, they’re really not the amusement park type.”

“If they don’t like these sort of places, then why are they here to begin with?” Mukuro demanded to know.

“Well, you see--” Komaeda began until the ride started slowly ascending towards the top. “Oh! We have liftoff, it seems!”

Looking down below, Ishimaru gulped as the ground seemed to be shrinking and shrinking while he and the others were lifted up to the air. He took a sharp inhale through his nostrils, trying to shush his racing heart and rid it of anxiety. When the Giant Drop Meteor’s platform neared its peak, Ishimaru flinched when he felt something warm and soft touch his forehand from the left. He turned his head in that direction, turning pinkish in the cheeks when he saw Mukuro was the one touching his hand.

“If you’re scared, I’m fine with holding your hand,” she said to him.

“Mukuro! PDA isn’t welcome in a school environment, nor is it welcome in a public one either!” Ishimaru objected. “I don’t wish to violate such important con-- _DUUUUUUCT_!”

As the black platform descended down with a false crash, Ishimaru screamed so loudly from the high speed it felt as though his larynx would give out at any second. The shot upwards was just as obnoxious, giving a false bounce before doing another swift and painful descent. While it shot downwards, an adrenaline-engulfed Ishimaru quickly gripped the soft palm belonging to Mukuro, who only let out screams of rush that were mild in comparison to Ishimaru’s.

For the entire duration of the ride, Ishimaru practically screamed his head off from how fast the platform bounced up and down the tower. When the ride came to a stop and all the riders were let out, Mukuro discovered Ishimaru was still holding onto her hand, seemingly unaware the ride had stopped minutes ago.

“Kiyotaka?” Mukuro called, a ruddy color coming to her cheeks as she stroked Ishimaru’s hand with her thumb to get his attention further.

“Yes?” Ishimaru responded.

“The ride stopped already. You don’t have to keep holding my hand.”

Ishimaru finally came to his senses and realized he was indeed still grasping Mukuro’s soft hand firmly. Sputtering once, he let go and drew his hand back, sticking it to the side while lightly biting his lower lip. He gave Mukuro a quick apology, clearing his throat as blood filled part of his face with color. Komaeda walked near them and saw the scene, letting a “hmm” pass his nostril holes. As the two went back to the others waiting for them, Komaeda secretly started walking in the same direction.

Ishimaru and Mukuro made it back to Mondo and Chihiro, who were both preoccupied with the four hamsters in their possession. While Mukuro quickly went over to the small creatures to get a closer look, Ishimaru rolled his eyes a little from more strays Chihiro had taken in.

“Why do you keep finding more furry creatures, Chihiro-kun?” Ishimaru asked.

“It's just until we find their owner,” Chihiro informed him.

“We're not keepin’ ‘em forever, Kyoudai,” Mondo assured. “Do you know how easy it is for four little hamsters ta get stepped on in a huge-ass park?”

“True…” Ishimaru pondered. “Though, we’re not going back to school with stolen hamsters! Isn't that right, Mukuro?”

“Oh…” Mukuro sighed in disappointment before feigning agreement. “I mean, affirmative! These cute little things quite unfortunately belong to someone else.”

“Such cute little pets you have,” Komaeda remarked, finally making himself known to the quartet.

“Oh, they're not ours, Komaeda-kun,” Ishimaru corrected, much to Mukuro's dismay.

“You know this guy?” Mondo asked Ishimaru, the sight of Komaeda and his smile giving him an inner shiver of discomfort for some reason. “Something's… off about him.”

“We're acquaintances,” Mukuro added. “He sometimes accompanies Kiyotaka and I when we're tending to important business.”

“What kind of ‘important business’?” Chihiro asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Prolly a third wheel,” Mondo uttered to Chihiro, making the small boy giggle at the implications.

“Classified information,” Komaeda answered. “But enough about me, may I ask who you are in regards to Si-- I mean, Ishimaru-kun?”

“Mondo Oowada, SHSL Gang Leader and his best friend.”

“Ch-Chihiro Fujisaki, th-the SHSL Hacker and Ishimaru-kun’s other b-best friend…”

Komaeda absorbed the information, tying their relationship with Ishimaru and his Future Diary’s ability together. He nodded once, smiling at the quartet before looking down at the Four Dark Gods Of Destruction. Each hamster (the sleeping Jum-P omitted) shot Komaeda nasty little glares, bracing themselves to take any action in case he got too close. The sickly-looking boy with wild snow-white hair smirked anyways, putting a teasing finger towards Sun-D’s sunflower, only for the hamster to immediately try and nip it as self-defense.

“Lively little things, they are,” Komaeda commented, pulling his finger back in time to avoid the bite. “Well, I must be on my way. I thank you for the new information, Oowada-kun and Fujisaki-san. Good luck with those hamsters.”

Komaeda turned his back on the quartet and left, waving once as he walked further and further away from them. Moving on from the event, Mondo and Chihiro both got up from the bench they’d been sitting at, ready to move onto more parts of the park.

“Where should we go next?” Mondo asked, looking at Chihiro’s map.

“I… I wouldn’t mind trying that haunted ride,” Chihiro uttered, gulping nervously. “I didn’t go on the first two rides, so this’ll make up for it.”

“Kid, ya don’t hafta--”

“But I want to! I want to build up my endurance so I’ll be braver in these kinds of things.”

“I think it’s a splendid idea!” Ishimaru agreed. “What about you, Mukuro?”

“Haunted rides aren’t actually inhabited by ghosts, so they wouldn’t bother me,” Mukuro commented. “It’s probably not even that scary.

“Then it’s s-settled! We’re going to the haunted ride down that way!” Chihiro confirmed, puffing his cheeks in determination. “Afterwards, we can find our own things to do. If that’s alright with you three.”

After coming to a consensus, the quartet left with the Four Dark Gods Of Destruction by their side. To make things easier for Mondo and Chihiro, Ishimaru took the chip-eared Maga-Z into his care, while Mukuro didn’t hesitate to carry the orange and plump Cham-P with her.

On the way to their designated ride, Chihiro harshly bumped right into someone by complete accident. Opening his eyes, the SHSL Hacker wound up looking directly into the intimidating eyes of Gundam Tanaka, one gray and one red by color contact. Gundam gave Chihiro a fierce glare of aggravation, only to look shocked when he spotted Sun-D on his shoulder.

“S-Sorry about that…” Chihiro stuttered out his apology. He realized Gundam was looking straight at the hamster he had with him. “Oh, d-do you know who lost this hamster and its friends?”

As much as the Thirteenth Diary Holder wanted to proudly announce the Four Dark Gods Of Destruction belonged to him and take them back into his safe possession, he knew he couldn’t risk messing up such a wonderful plan to eliminate his enemies. Without a word but an uttered “insolent mortals…”, Gundam seemingly left the vicinity with his scarf blowing backwards, glancing with open concern at where his furry little friends currently were.

 _“Be careful, my Four Dark Gods…”_ he thought, turning another corner and reading the Divine Beast Diary for instructions on what his hamster’s observations were saying to do next.

“What’s up with him?” Mukuro wondered.

“Eh, he’s prolly just another freak like that kid Komaeda,” Mondo scoffed. “C’mon, let’s get goin’.”

They all arrived at the building on the map, which had pictures of two one-eyed creatures, a winking blue ghost surrounded by wisps, and a white cat with gold eyes and long black hair wearing a red kimono robe. Mukuro and Mondo showed nothing but indifference to it, Ishimaru examined the peculiar appearance, and Chihiro gulped down fearful lumps in his throat. He took a sharp breath in through the nostrils, bracing himself as he followed the group into the ride. Once everyone paid for their ride admission, Ishimaru took a seat in the small car next to Mukuro, leaving Mondo with Chihiro in the back. The Four Dark Gods Of Destruction were all in safe spots on their temporary “vessels”, able to see everything around them as the ride car moved forward into darkness.

“Here we go,” Mondo commented. “I heard they improved the robots this time around. Ya ready, Chihiro?”

“Yes, I am!” Chihiro confirmed, clenching his fists in the dimly lit atmosphere.

“So, where are the animatronics?” Mukuro asked, looking around.

“They should come up at any minute,” Ishimaru assumed. “Since this is a ‘haunted’ thrill ride, we don't know when they'll-- POP OUT OF NOWHERE!” Ishimaru shrieked when a decrepit-looking old man animatronic jumped out at them with a haunting wail.

Upon being startled, Ishimaru instinctively latched onto Mukuro next to him, causing her to not only be startled in return, but also become beet red. Below his arm, Ishimaru felt Mukuro's heart pick up the pace in hasty beats, making the male realize he was initiating physical contact with the Soldier. Ripping himself away, he felt more heat fill his face, wondering what Mukuro must have thought.

“My apologies, Mukuro,” Ishimaru said, coughing to distract himself from his reddening face.

“It's… alright,” Mukuro assured him, now feeling more conflicted than ever about the boy sitting next to her.

From the side, an animatronic of some sort of ghoul jumped out of seemingly nowhere, startling everybody but the stronger-willed Mukuro. Chihiro tried his best not to scream from the frightening appearance, only letting out a low yelp as he swallowed the rest. Looking at Mondo to his left, Chihiro took a deep breath and prepared for whatever animatronic would appear next. From the dim lighting, Mondo saw Chihiro’s determination in his expression, feeling rather proud of him for wanting to take on a challenge (even if the Gang Leader himself wasn’t all too put off by such a mild ride).

* * *

Deep within the dim lighting of the haunted tour, Gundam observed his Divine Beast Diary after receiving new updated predictions a few minutes earlier after bumping into Chihiro. Smirking to himself, he read some helpful entries from the point of views of his undercover Four Dark Gods Of Destruction, the topmost one saying “19:42 [Jum-P]: Brightened lights disturbed my temporary slumber; all I see are occult ghouls attempting to strike us down.”, while another one below it read “19:46 [Maga-Z]: The majority of my captors are distracted by the undead. A perfect opportunity to eliminate The Fifth and The Sixth would be around now.”. Gundam took the most heed of the lattermost prediction by Maga-Z, using a prediction from Sun-D that said “19:49 [Sun-D]: My docile captor is attempting not to be intimidated by the mortal endoskeleton in the white garb. Someone familiar seems to be lurking within this darkness.” to guide him to the next spot. Closing his Future Diary, Gundam unsheathed his recently-borrowed dagger and walked to where a certain animatronic was.

 _“A direct approach is best,”_ he thought, creeping along the scarce lighting. _“After all, it’s only the lives of The Sixth and The Fifth I shall claim! If I were to be so foolish as to use another method, then my Four Dark Gods will surely perish because of my barbaric indiscretion.”_

When he finally saw a skeletal animatronic with a half-rotted face wearing a wedding dress and veil holding a knife dangling above him, Gundam smirked and stayed hidden within the darkness. He heard the mechanical sounds of the ride car approaching, drawing his dagger near and creeping forth. At the sight of the car, he saw Maga-Z on Ishimaru's shoulder while Mukuro held Cham-P close. The concerned Gundam squinted carefully, aiming on where he should attempt to strike at the right time. Careful to avoid hitting any of the two hamsters in the front, Gundam rushed to make his move when the car approached the animatronic above.

“Till death do us part!” the dead bride animatronic screeched, holding a fake knife at the riders.

“GYAUGH!” all but Mukuro yelped, frightened by the jumpscare.

Keeping quiet, Gundam rushed towards Ishimaru and Mukuro in the dark with his dagger raised high above one of them. Before he could make any fatal attempts on either life, the startled Mondo took a harsh swing at Gundam, sending him backwards with a pained grunt and away from the track with a minor bruise due to the Gang Leader’s strength.

“These fuckin’ ride robots,” Mondo groaned. “Tryin’ ta gimme more heart attacks!”

“That last one sounded a little real, though,” Ishimaru pointed out, bewildered.

“Probably due to adequate sound effects,” Mukuro guessed. “Not that this ride is anything of the sort.”

As the car got further out of sight, Gundam rubbed the bruise with a pained hiss. He watched his potential victims get away, recapitulating on what just went awry in his plan.

“So, my adversaries have physical protection,” Gundam remarked, following the car. “If I wish to slaughter The Fifth and The Sixth, I’ll have to overcome such obstacles beforehand!”

The ride came to an end, letting the quartet leave the vicinity with enough ease. Not too far behind them was Gundam, who kept his weapon sheathed whilst looking at the Divine Beast Diary for more clues. As the phone updated with new observations by the Four Dark Gods Of Destruction, Gundam jumped in astonishment with a yelp as a voice popped up behind him out of nowhere.

“Having a bit of a tough time, Thirteenth?” the voice of Komaeda asked as Gundam turned to face him with an annoyed face.

“That isn’t any of your concern, you aberration,” Gundam sneered. “My precious friends are leading me closer to victory! If only I could bypass the physical escutcheons The Sixth and The Fifth have hired to safeguard their pathetic lives.”

“Escutcheons?” Komaeda wondered, “Are you calling Sixth’s friends shields?” Pinching his cheek once, the pale-haired boy came to a conclusion. “If that’s what you think is stopping you from becoming my Izuru-sama’s successor, then get rid of them.”

“Which is exactly what I intend to do! I vow to render my adversaries as powerless as their petty Earthly existences!”

“Someone sounds confident in themselves. Just put that dagger I loaned you to good use, Tanaka-kun. Adieu, and bon chance.”

With that said from his lips, Komaeda walked off without another word, elated that he’d sped things up for his godly master. Making sure the dagger was secure in the borrowed sheath on his leg, Gundam followed the direction his Future Diary was telling him to go in.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ishimaru and his friends were walking towards a stand full of plush dolls and toys hanging above a row of iron water guns. Mukuro took one look at the game stand, immediately enticed by it and rushing over to sit down. The three guys saw her do so, deciding to stay put and let her play the game before making other plans.

“One game is ¥500, Miss,” the owner of the game stand told her.

“That’s all that will be required,” Mukuro insisted, handing over the money.

“You have thirty seconds to hit all the targets. Ready… go!”

Gripping the handles with Cham-P standing on the counter next to her, Mukuro tilted her squirt gun to the side at the mobile target. Taking quick aim, she pressed her thumb against the button on the side, a jet of water striking the center flawlessly and making the target fall down forever. In the 30-second span, Mukuro shot each target in its bullseye center with water, not missing a single one. Ishimaru, Chihiro, Mondo, and the stand owner’s mouths were all agape as Mukuro proudly looked at the “NEW RECORD” sign flashing behind where the targets once were.

“As expected,” Mukuro uttered, turning to Cham-P. “That was fun, wasn't it, little fella?”

Cham-P did nothing but blink, leaving Mukuro to assume he was impressed. The stand owner asked what prize she would like, to which she chose the giant, beady-eyed penguin in the back. Accepting the prize, Mukuro went over to the astounded guys accompanying her, Ishimaru more than impressed with Mukuro's prowess.

“This is yours,” Mukuro said to the gazing Ishimaru, surrendering ownership of the giant penguin doll over to him.

“Thank you,” Ishimaru managed to say, suppressing an oncoming tint of rosy color in his cheeks. “Why a penguin, though?”

“Penguins have good posture, so I thought of you when I saw it.”

“How sweet of you, Mukuro. I love y-- …it.”

Mukuro pursed her lips in surprise, blinking as she became somewhat meek at Ishimaru's gratitude. Such appreciation and kindness was all too familiar to her, which she tried her best not to think of. As he held the penguin close in a hug, Ishimaru smiled as the blush on his face deepened, not hearing his friends discuss something next to him. The smitten Hall Monitor was pulled from his stupor when Chihiro got his attention, tip-toeing up to his ear for a secret exchange.

“Take her to the Rose Garden,” Chihiro whispered.

“The Rose Garden? Where's that?” Ishimaru asked.

“It's on the map.” Chihiro pulled away from Ishimaru's ear and spoke normally. “Oowada-kun and I are going on a different roller coaster. So, we agreed it’s perfect for you to get some, umm… ‘alone time’ with Ikusaba-san!”

“What?! I couldn’t possibly do that! Such a thing would let Mukuro find out I possibly… feel a certain way about her.”

“That’s the point, Ishimaru-kun. Oowada-kun and I think it’s for the best that you tell Ikusaba-san how you feel as soon as possible. If you don’t, then you might miss out on some pretty big things.”

“But, Chihiro-kun, what if she doesn’t feel the same way and I jeopardize our wonderful friendship?”

“W-Well, you won’t know unless you try. I don’t think Ikusaba-san would just start hating you because of it. She must care about you if she willingly gave you that giant penguin you’re holding.”

Ishimaru took another look at the large plush doll Mukuro gave him, his heart warming profusely like his face. He then looked back at the Soldier, who was trying to convince the stubborn person at the game stand to let her play another game in order to win something for herself. Just the sight of Mukuro made Ishimaru smile, which made him all the more nervous, yet also just as hopeful about Chihiro’s advice.

“I’ll give it my best,” Ishimaru told Chihiro, looking at him normally. “You and Kyoudai have fun on your roller coaster, and we’ll meet up with you there when you’re done.”

“Great! We both believe in you, Taka-kun!” Chihiro chirped, smiling. “Oowada-kun, I’m ready!”

Mondo heard Chihiro call him, going over to the boy with the half-awake Jum-P comfortable in his pompadour. He looked at Ishimaru, putting a hand on his shoulder after being informed Chihiro told him what they planned and discussed behind his back.

“Good luck, Kyoudai,” Mondo said with encouragement, giving Ishimaru a thumbs up. “When Chi and I get back, I hope we hear you guys’re official!”

“Erm, right…” Ishimaru breathed, scraping his lower lip against his teeth. “That’s assuming she actually feels the same way I do about her.”

“Don’t worry! Yer irresistible, and I think she already digs ya! See ya in a bit!”

Before leaving, Mondo and Chihiro informed Mukuro that they were going to a roller coaster at the latter’s request. She nodded with understanding, sending them off with a wave and a “good luck”. While Mondo started walking off to get a head start, Chihiro stayed behind for a few seconds, a smile on his face as he requested something of Mukuro.

“Be good to him, okay?” Chihiro begged. “Ishimaru-kun’s a really good guy, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“What in the world are you talking about, Fujisaki-san?” Mukuro asked, beyond oblivious and confused.

“Oh, n-nothing, Ikusaba-san! You’ll see in a bit! Y-You and Ishimaru-kun, umm… play nice now! Bye!”

With Sun-D sitting safely on his shoulder, Chihiro caught up with Mondo, leaving behind a confused and somewhat uneasy Mukuro. At that moment, Ishimaru marched right up to the girl, his posture stiff as a cutting board and his breathing trying to act more steady, yet failing to do so correctly. The Hall Monitor swore he felt sweat threatening to soak his blue shirt and open jacket, grabbing onto the last bits of composure he could salvage.

“Kiyotaka?” Mukuro wondered. “You don’t look so good. Are things okay?”

“Yes!” Ishimaru blurted out, easing up a little before remembering what he was told to ask her. “Mukuro-kun, I would like to go on a walk with you to the Rose Garden! I heard it’s quite a sight to behold!”

“The Rose Garden?” Mukuro looked at her park map, finding the exact spot Ishimaru mentioned right on it. “It’s not a ride, but it does sound lovely. I’d be more than honored to accompany you on such a walk.”

Nodding, Ishimaru followed Mukuro in the direction where the park section was, Maga-Z and Cham-P respectively sitting securely on their temporary owners’ shoulders. They crossed the pearly white trellis arch, entering a beautiful world of elegant roses colored different reds, pinks, and whites alike. The tanned pavement of marble led Ishimaru and Mukuro through the fragrant flower bed, both breathlessly taking in each gracious sight, each bloomed rose firmly resting within safe ground along the sides.

“This is truly a sight to behold,” Mukuro commented, not taking her eyes off of her surroundings. “All these roses finely assorted in rows like this.”

“I agree, it is impressive,” Ishimaru sided with Mukuro, walking close to her but still keeping some distance. “I never thought an amusement park would have something so elegant.”

“It must be among many hidden wonders of Hirakata Park. Everything in this garden is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you are beautiful, Mukuro…” Ishimaru said before realizing what he said, covering his mouth.

“That’s what I said. The roses in this garden are beautiful,” Mukuro repeated, not catching what Ishimaru said at all. “I’m glad you think so too.”

Ishimaru scratched the back of his head, laughing sheepishly as he continued to walk with Mukuro through the gracefully moonlit garden. The two walked under yet another arch of leaves and roses, taking in both sight and scent of the flowers around them. While they strolled, Mukuro caught Ishimaru looking at her with a warm gaze, only for him to quickly turn away with a roseate face, trying his best to keep down the smile stretching his lips from her presence. Mukuro hadn’t a clue why he was acting strange, but what she did know is her heart was all the more warmed by Ishimaru as it was torn between him and something else.

“I’m having fun,” Mukuro told the Hall Monitor.

“You are?” Ishimaru wondered, happy to hear such a thing. “That’s wonderful! But, why do you seem so uneasy?”

“There’s… let’s just say there’s something on my mind. I can’t quite say it properly.”

“Me as well. Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun want nothing more than for me to announce it, but I need more time to prepare myself.”

Spotting a bench after walking for a longer period of time, Mukuro suggested they take a break by sitting down until they were ready to walk again. Ishimaru allowed the Soldier to take her seat first, accompanying her on the bench under the rose grove. Maga-Z and Cham-P were rather restless for some apparent reason, but that went ignored by Ishimaru and Mukuro. Instead, the two Hope’s Peak Academy students found each other looking into the other’s eyes, faces rather ruddy and nerved.

“This… has been a nice walk,” Mukuro said.

“Yes, it indeed has,” Ishimaru agreed. “I’m glad you had a good time with me.”

“I typically enjoy myself anyways, at least when I’m accompanied by you.” Mukuro let out a sigh of mild discontent and conflict, looking away from Ishimaru save for her gray-blue eyes shifting in his direction. “And yet, everything just feels so… weird around you.”

“It feels weird? Why is that?”

“Well, I-- erm, let’s say I’m acquainted with somebody who… is starting to feel a certain way towards another. They told me this person they might have such overwhelming feelings for is someone who they’ve come quite a long way with, but there’s a problem with it.”

“What is your friend’s problem? Is there any way I can help?”

“The problem that certain person thinks they might be quite… attached to someone much like they have someone from the past. The problem is, the one they’re attached to is a lot like the person from back then, who is sadly no longer around.”

“So, that person feels as though it’s a ‘blast from the past’ because they’re reminded too much of another they loved in the past?”

“Exactly. And it’s because that person lost the first love that the thought of repeating history with the second love scares them to no end. They’ve informed me they want to possibly let themselves grow even closer to the person to such degrees, but they’re just scared.” Mukuro’s voice was openly forlorn, worrying Ishimaru despite the Hall Monitor not knowing why. “They’re scared of losing another wonderful person who still has plenty of humanity in them when no one else does, even if it seems like it’s bound to happen one way or another.”

Burying her face in her curled up knees on the bench, Mukuro sniffled back a few minor sobs, some tears dripping from her pressure-filling face of freckles. She only pulled up from it when Ishimaru put a soft palm on her back, dragging it all the way to her upper arm. Her lip still trembled with pain, but the Soldier’s full and misty-eyed gaze was now only focused on Ishimaru.

“Now, I definitely can’t say I’m a romance expert,” Ishimaru disclaimed. “However, what I can say to your friend in dire need is they shouldn’t be afraid to love anyone. Tell them what I’ve told you, Mukuro: Losing someone is unfathomably painful. However, it’s new people you come to love is who help you along the way.”

“But if they lose that newfound happiness in that person, then won’t history just repeat itself?”

“It could, yes. But if you ask me, that should never hinder someone from finding happiness in another. If someone makes you happy just by being around them, then you should let that joy come instead of fighting it. Because when you fight it, no one wins and you wind up living a life of misery.”

“I see your point. Though, if my acquaintance finds peace around another person, wouldn’t that just be them betraying their love for the first who’s gone?”

“Of course not! That person may be gone for possibly ever, but loving someone else after their departure doesn’t mean you’re betraying them. I guess it’d be whatever you felt towards them is what makes you able to love another so you’re not always stuck in the past. I don’t think that first person would want you to remain perpetually mournful of their departure forever. Such an act with no closure isn’t all too healthy for the mind.”

Mukuro took in Ishimaru’s advice, feeling somewhat hopeful about it. It may not have stopped her from feeling unsure altogether, as evident by her remaining tears being wiped away, but it did give her some reassurance. Instead of saying anything, Mukuro let her face lean in on Ishimaru’s short-sleeved jacket, making him jolt somewhat as if her touch was electric.

“I’ll be sure to tell my acquaintance your tips,” Mukuro said to Ishimaru. “I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“Well, I’m the SHSL Hall Monitor, so I’m always here to help!” Ishimaru replied, smiling lightly before his lower lip sank into his mouth at his next decision. “Mukuro…”

“Yes?” Mukuro questioned, looking up as her feet went back on the ground.

Ishimaru accepted a sharp jet of air into his nostrils, bracing himself and keeping his word to Mondo and Chihiro. Mukuro’s eyes opened and shut in the span of a millisecond, curious on what Ishimaru was preparing himself for when he ought to have been more relaxed in a setting such as a garden of roses. Without the first word, Ishimaru clasped onto Mukuro’s hands with his own, face beet red and sweaty like his palms.

“Mukuro! Listen to me very clearly!” Ishimaru demanded, trying to conceal his vocal nervousness. “It’s an understatement to say we had a bit of a… rough start, but we’ve come so far and learned so much about each other. Now, I think you’re a compassionate young lady. You’re a leader, a hard-worker, brave, and actually quite ador-- ahem!”

“Kiyotaka? What are you trying to say to me?”

“What I’m trying to say, Mukuro, is that I’ve been feeling something quite bizarre towards you. It took a little urging from Mondo and Chihiro-kun, but I’ve come to realize the unabridged truth!” Clasping Mukuro’s hands gingerly, Ishimaru swallowed more bile down his throat before gathering his confession altogether. “Mukuro, what I’ve come to realize is that I l-- no no, that’s not it. I’ve begun to fall--! Urgh, I’ve realized that I’ve developed feel--”

The rest of Ishimaru’s honest confession would never pass his lips. From his red string bag was the Friendship Diary, which made its loud interference noise and told its owner of an updated future regarding his friends’ well-being. Ishimaru quickly released the openly blushing Mukuro’s hands, taking the Future Diary out of his bag and flipping its screen upwards to read the predictions. Nervousness turned to horror at what the future had in store, and Ishimaru immediately closed it before starting to gather his things.

“Kiyotaka, what does your Diary say?” Mukuro asked, alarmed.

“There isn’t time to explain!” Ishimaru piped up, grabbing Mukuro by the wrist and running with her and the hamsters on them. “Mondo and Chihiro need us! We’ve got to hurry!”

Ishimaru and Mukuro bolted out of the Rose Garden, following the map to the Fantastic Coaster Rowdy ride where Ishimaru’s best companions were. Although he’d let go of Mukuro once she kept up with his hasty running, Ishimaru’s anxious thoughts regarding the future entries made the male all the more scared of what was to possibly come.


	23. Night 37 Part 3: An Eye For An Eye, And A Limb For A Life!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> Gamekrazy306: You'll see the verdict in this chapter. Let's just say it's exactly what you expected (maybe, I dunno). Also, there will definitely be more IshiMuku goodness down the road!
> 
> (Chapter 20)
> 
> Same person: A lot of people thought this chapter was the saddest. I don't blame them bc I actually got really depressed writing it... And yeah, at least people have Ishimaru's back! He really deserves good friends, he does.

Ishimaru and Mukuro ran closer and closer to the Fantastic Coaster Rowdy, the former pleading for the best despite his overwhelming worries. Upon reaching the scene, however, Ishimaru was met with shock when an ambulance and several police cars were arranged at the line for the ride, which was lined with yellow police tape. He took out his Friendship Diary, looking at the time with dread as he recalled two entry times in the Diary. Without double-checking his predictions, Ishimaru got a closer look, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw two body bags being carried out of the ride entrance.

“Please… no, no! Not them!” Ishimaru pleaded to no one in particular, attempting to rush in where his friends were.

“Kid, you can’t go in there! There’s been an accident!” the policeman said, detaining the desperate Ishimaru.

“Let me go! Kyoudai! Chihiro-kun!” Ishimaru wailed, thick tears forming in his eyes as the policeman shoved him away from the two unmoving body bags with familiar shapes to their forms.

The policeman was finally able to get Ishimaru away from the crime scene, forcing him to stay put after the two cadavers were put into a single ambulance truck and carried off. Mukuro went over to Ishimaru when he opened the Friendship Diary again, looking with tears and mucus escaping his sniffling face at a bleak future for Mondo and Chihiro. The prediction at the top read “20:13: Kyoudai’s seat belt snaps in two, leading to him taking a fatal fall off of the roller coaster’s great height onto the concrete below. No… not my best friend! Anyone but Mondo!” followed by the subsequent “20:15: Chihiro-kun’s seat belt also came undone, which made him break his spine on the track after falling from the front seat. Two of my friends… gone… why…?!”. Ishimaru’s tear drops fell from his soaked scarlet eyes and onto the bad news-bearing screen, the heartbroken Hall Monitor shutting it and bringing his hands to his face after putting away his Friendship Diary. There, he just let it all out; every sob, cry, and scream of pain as more tears came out. Ishimaru didn’t care who watched him, only consumed by grief while an ambulance carried away two more departed loved ones he’d failed to protect.

Mukuro watched the scene, her own heart aching with empathetic sorrow as Ishimaru cried his eyes out. She stayed by his side, letting him release his sadness while she comforted him by rubbing his back with her hand. What surprised her was Ishimaru turning around and pulling her into a tight grasp, not wanting to let go of his only remaining comfort. Although she felt it wasn’t right to do so, Mukuro reciprocated the hug to try and add more comfort.

However, the Soldier’s attention was quickly ripped from her grieving companion to the sight in back of him. The small squeaks of Cham-P and Maga-Z were what made her look, the steel-blue eyes locked straight on Gundam, who walked slowly past them in the distance with Sun-D and Jum-P’s heads protruding from his scarf. Gundam was holding his Future Diary, looking at it with dark chuckles.

“What the…?” Mukuro breathed. “Kiyotaka, take a look.”

Despite his hesitation and sinking heart, Ishimaru held his sobs back for the time being with sniffles, tearfully turning his head to the passing Gundam. Not only did he spot the ominous male looking at his phone, but he noticed the two hamsters once with the late Mondo and Chihiro were visible from Gundam’s violet scarf. Nonetheless, he turned his head back, letting more tears drip from his eyes without caring for much else but the tragedy that just unfolded.

“What of it?” Ishimaru sighed, “He’s probably the hamsters’ true owner. I’m just about ready to go; I don’t wish to stay here any longer.”

“Hmm…” Mukuro pondered. “Follow me. There’s something I need to listen for. Just to clear my suspicions.”

“You go on ahead. If I go with you, I might just jinx you and you’ll get hurt as Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun did.”

“But, Kiyo--”

“Mukuro, please. Let me suffer for my recklessness in peace. If I’d have been more careful, then I’d still have my best friends with me!”

Mukuro tried convincing him further, but Ishimaru only let more sobs pour out of him along with his oncoming tears. Sighing morosely, Mukuro told Ishimaru to stay put and began her secret pursuit of the mysterious Gundam Tanaka. The last she saw of Ishimaru for the moment was him dragging himself over to a nearby bench at a different ride, head sunk low with his sobbing face buried in his hands. Such a sight made the Soldier feel horrible for leaving Ishimaru alone, but she promised to keep her task at hand as her main focus.

“Let’s see what’s really going on with you, Mr. Stranger,” Mukuro pondered, finding Gundam and slowly following him afar.

“Sun-D, Jum-P, you two have done well,” Gundam chuckled in a bassy voice. “As to continue with our flawless procedure, our other two friends should lead us right to Fifth and Sixth!”

 _“Other two… friends?”_ Mukuro thought, suppressing a gasp when she remembered Cham-P was on her body. _“This can’t be good!”_

Gundam checked the rest of his predictions, reading off one that said “20:22 [Maga-Z]: The Sixth has been emotionally compromised, clearly mourning the loss of two of his companions.” right before the crucial prediction of “20:24 [Cham-P]: Sun-D and Jum-P have reunited with Lord Gundam, and yet I’m still with The Fifth observing him for his identity.” Gundam took another look at the latter prediction, recalling his Diary’s function and what it obviously meant. A single look to the left made him spot Cham-P, who was on the shoulder of the investigating Mukuro.

“It’s The Fifth!” Gundam exclaimed, starting to run towards Mukuro.

“A Diary Holder?!” Mukuro gasped, starting the chase by fleeing ahead of Gundam. “There’s no other way around it!”

As Mukuro bolted forward, Gundam took another look at his Future Diary for another clue, taking a seemingly wrong turn. Believing she’d lost him, Mukuro smirked and kept running to where she thought to be a safer undercover spot. At long last, the SHSL Soldier reached the glimmering and glowing Ferris Wheel, where she stayed hidden within the line, rather close to the front.

“I should be okay here,” Mukuro said to herself until her Tactics Diary made a noisy update in her future. Checking it, Mukuro’s eyes widened. “‘20:26: Thirteenth comes in with a high-jump kick from the right. Dodge it by ducking backwards and pull off a successful toss after an arm grab.’?!” she read.

Just as her last-minute Diary predicted, in came Gundam, who let out a yell as he piloted his black boot towards Mukuro from apparently out of thin air. The crowd around Mukuro spread out with panic, the ex-mercenary herself doing as her Tactics Diary said, ducking backwards, and grabbing Gundam by the arm. When an open orange Ferris Wheel car came their way, Mukuro tossed her opponent inside, charging right in as the locked door closed before the ride started up.

“Another Diary Holder, are you?” Mukuro wondered, keeping Gundam on the ground with her foot.

“Not just any Holder of these sacred Future Diaries, Fifth,” Gundam chuckled maliciously, looking right up at Mukuro with confidence. “Before you stands-- err, lies, Gundam Tanaka! Remember that name well, Fifth! For it is he, the Thirteenth of the Diary Holders, who shall ascend to the throne of God and create a proper universe for the kingdom of the superior beasts who roam this miserable dimension with their divinities!”

“I’m going to assume that translates to ‘I plan on using my role of God, or lack thereof, to turn humanity into a literal animal kingdom’? How wasteful of a goal.”

“Perceive my wishes as you may, mortal! But with my Divine Beast Diary and the prophecies of my Four Dark Gods Of Destruction, I shall conquer you and The Sixth!” While he boasted such, Gundam reached a hand out towards Mukuro, allowing Cham-P to hop off Mukuro’s shoulder and return to his owner’s scarf, much to Gundam’s satisfaction.

“As long as I’m around, you won’t be able to lay a finger on him!” Mukuro unsheathed her knife, keeping her Tactics Diary tight in her other hand. “Now, enough with the meaningless talk. Let’s settle this for good, shall we?”

“That we shall!”

Gundam burst from the floor, immediately unsheathing his dagger and taking a swing at Mukuro, who quickly deflected it with her Fenrir knife after reading “20:28: Thirteenth attempts a frontal swing with his blade. Deflect it quickly with the jagged side on your own”. For his second attempt at attacking Mukuro, Gundam raised the dagger above his head and brought it down just as quick, only for Mukuro to roll out of his way at the command of her Tactics Diary. Once Gundam was open for even a split second, Mukuro thrust the knife she owned at him, leaving a gash in his right arm. He gripped the wound in pain, leaving him open for the swift kick Mukuro delivered to his face, damaging enough of his jaw to bleed profusely.

“You are but a perishable being…” Gundam coughed, more blood splattering onto the floor. “How can you possibly be adequate enough to so much as spar against me?!”

“Super High School Level Soldier, ex-Fenrir agent, owner of the Tactics Diary,” Mukuro said simply, showing Gundam her open black cell phone for a brief moment or two.  “Face it, Thirteenth. This is a fight you’ll never win.”

“We shall see, Fifth!” Gundam shouted, going in for another attack. “You cannot defeat a future God!”

When Gundam went in for a grab at Mukuro in an attempt to toss her, Mukuro instead latched onto his arm from her Diary’s skimmed prediction of “20:33: Thirteenth makes a tossing attempt, but his grab leaves him vulnerable. Turn the tables with a grab of your own and give him a harsh throw.”, taking the toss for her own advantage. Gundam went crashing into the wall of the Ferris Wheel car, causing the wheel to shake for a moment until it stood still again, resuming its mostly peaceful circuitous run. Before Gundam could completely get up, Mukuro pinned the jagged part of her Fenrir knife to the bare part of his neck, eyes completely steel and unfeeling.

“It’s all over for you now, Thirteenth,” Mukuro hissed, voice frigid and emotionless.

“This Game shall not end for me… until I’ve proven victorious!” Gundam declared, springing upwards and successfully grabbing Mukuro, flipping her to the other side and making her knife go sliding across the floor. She tried making a grab for it, but Gundam pinned the girl under his boot, his own dagger firm in his grasp.

“Get off of me!” Mukuro demanded, struggling as Gundam kept pressing down on her as hard as he could.

“Hmm, it appears as though I’ve gained the upper hand, Fifth,” Gundam laughed with malice dripping from his voice like acid. “And now, you shall be the first to guide me on my path to godhood! Prepare to perish, insolent mortal!”

* * *

As that was going on, the sullen Ishimaru was halfway closer to the park entrance, defeated and more than ready to leave the park where he’d let down his friends. Before he could take another step closer, however, his Friendship Diary made a loud update on his future. Opening it, Ishimaru’s eyes processed an entry with the words “20:36: Mukuro is dueling against Thirteenth on the Ferris Wheel. She’s putting up a good fight as per usual, but how much longer can she keep this up?!”. Looking to his right in the direction of the wheel, Ishimaru turned himself around and ran, his mind now only concerned with his only remaining friend in life. He hadn’t much concern with the people he’d passed through, Mukuro’s well-being racing through his mind alongside thoughts of paranoia.

“I’m not going to lose her too!” Ishimaru panted, finally reaching the Ferris Wheel line where people stood watching the struggle from below. “Mukuro… she’s all I have left in this world now!”

From the orange Ferris Wheel car at the top slowly heading towards the middle of the atmosphere, the window was smashed wide open, the form of Mukuro Ikusaba tossed forward by Gundam Tanaka. She was lucky enough to grab the window sill for dear life, trying her best to pull herself back into the cart. However, Gundam attempted to pierce his blade through the closed Tactics Diary in her hand, Mukuro desperately moving it back and forth to avoid the fatal damage. One last move made the girl’s hand slip, resulting in only one hand gripping onto the car until it started to slip.

“Farewell, Fifth,” Gundam laughed, “your fate is at last sealed!”

Gundam slashed the dagger blade across Mukuro’s upper knuckle, the slight sting causing her to accidentally let go just as the Ferris Wheel crept past its middle spin. Mukuro screamed as she descended, Ishimaru rushing forward into action with his arms wide open.

“MUKURO!” Ishimaru screamed, leaping forth and catching Mukuro’s weight in his limbs, preventing her from sustaining a fatal fall or breaking her Tactics Diary on impact.

“Kiyo?” Mukuro breathed, catching her breath from such a terrifying fall as hints of pink came to her freckles. “I guess you’re my hero this time.” she commented, a smile crossing her face.

“There wasn’t any way I would let you lose your life! Not after I failed to save Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun…”

“Curses!” Gundam roared, jumping from the car when it was close enough to the ground for a safe fall. “Insolent ephemeral being! Now you shall also perish by my hand!”

“You must be ‘Thirteenth’,” Ishimaru pointed out.

“Correct. But though you may have acknowledged I too bear the future in my mere palms, it won’t be enough to subdue me!” Gundam noticed the uneasy Maga-Z on Ishimaru’s shoulder, making a pseudo-bridge out of his bandaged palm so the creature could cross and join his friends within the scarf. “And now with all of my Four Dark Gods Of Destruction back at my side, we shall conquer the two of you together! Without your precious guards to shield you, Sixth, your challenge against me is futile!”

“My guards?” Ishimaru wondered, “I don’t have guards.”

“Ha-ha! Such a simple-minded fool! You fail to even acknowledge your perished protection!” Gundam turned around, the scarf fabric blowing back in the night’s slight wind. “If you wish to determine the final winner of this provocation, then come face me if you dare!”

Gundam vanished without an apparent trace, leaving behind a confused Ishimaru and Mukuro. They snapped out of their slight stupor, nodding at each other as they started chasing Gundam all the way through the park without him catching on. All three Diary Holders pushed through several crowds of people, Gundam making a sharp right down a pavement-covered hill. Soon enough, Ishimaru and Mukuro were able to corner him on an empty stage, where several blades and other sharp objects laid neatly aligned in preparation for a possible show.

“You have nowhere to turn, Thirteenth!” Ishimaru exclaimed, pointing a finger at him.

“I must commend you, Sixth,” Gundam started to taunt with a confident arm fold. “For someone with such a temporary lifespan, your willpower seemingly exceeds even my own.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m referring to your sudden recovery from the loss of your pathetic companions. The aggressive one and the docile one weren’t all too difficult to eliminate, I must say.”

“Aggressive one and--!” Ishimaru gasped when he realized who he was talking about, tears teasing his lower eyelids when Mondo and Chihiro’s images came to his head. “No… that… that was you! Did you--”

“Indeed! Thanks to your pathetic guards foolishly taking Sun-D and Jum-P into their care!” The Four Dark Gods made their appearance outside of Gundam’s scarf, Gundam himself holding them close to his face lovingly. “To think all they had to do was sever their life restraints! And that’s merely a portion of what these immortal beings are capable of!”

“The seat belts… that was…” Ishimaru breathed, gripping his head while his thoughts started swirling out of control as more tears fell from the SHSL Hall Monitor’s eyes.

“You’re a sick man, Thirteenth,” Mukuro sneered, stepping closer to Gundam with her knife drawn. “I’m going to make sure Oowada-kun and Fujisaki-san weren’t killed in vain!”

“Be my guest, Fifth. I’ll merely subdue you as I did at our circuitous prison,” Gundam laughed with dark confidence.

“Thirteenth…” Ishimaru breathed, eyes furrowing as anger burned within his crimson orbs.

“Hmm? Has the powerless one of my adversarial duo found the nerve to speak before a future God again?” Gundam taunted with a smirk until Ishimaru grabbed one of the sharp swords next to him, his bi-colored eyes widening with shock when Ishimaru started running towards him savagely with the handle gripped in both hands.

“ ** _YOU BASTAAARD_**!” the rage-possessed Ishimaru roared, using a proper kendō technique to bring the sword’s blade down, the sharpest edge running right through Gundam’s upper flesh and bone until his sleeve-wrapped left limb separated entirely from his body.

“GAH-AAAUGH!” Gundam screamed, gripping the socket where blood poured out of his body. “ _MY ARM_!”

While Gundam writhed in pain, Mukuro went back over to the seething and panting Ishimaru, who still had the blood-stained sword gripping in one hand. He looked at the severed arm, the forever open palm lacking the Divine Beast Diary necessary for Gundam’s destruction. Seeing their distracted seconds as an opportunity, Gundam kept his bleeding arm socket in his right arm’s grip and ran. One of his hamsters leaped from his scarf and gnawed the bandages wrapped around the severed arm free, taking the tip into their mouth and bringing the bandage train towards Gundam as the arm spun around until fully unraveled.

“We're _not_ letting him get away!” Ishimaru snarled, running for with Mukuro by his side. “He’ll pay with his life for slaughtering my best friends!”

* * *

Elsewhere, Gundam had taken refuge in a large, two-story building close to the end of the park, slumped down on his rear while Jum-P brought him the entire reel of bandage once wrapped around his formerly attached arm. Gundam took the bandage train, using his remaining hand to wrap the gauze around the bloody stump where his left limb used to be, any remaining life fluids absorbing into the secured bandage after a portion was bitten off by Gundam.

“Thank you, Jum-P…” Gundam winced, the pain in his arm stump not yet ready to mellow. “It's unlikely I would have survived if not for your actions…”

Hissing back more pain, Gundam took the Divine Beast Diary out from the safety of his coat pocket. Much to his dismay, he saw an upcoming event described as “20:58 [Four Dark Gods]: Lord Gundam and his Diary are mortally stabbed by The Sixth. DEAD END”. after an array of observations his Four Dark Gods were due to make. Levering his palm downwards in front of his scarf, Gundam allowed the other three Four Dark Gods to rest on his surface and be lowered onto the ground.

“My precious divine ones…” Gundam coughed, trying to suppress the pain in his arm stump. “The Fifth and The Sixth are bound to locate my whereabouts and silence me. You must cause a large enough diversion so I may erase my death-marked flag.”

All four of Gundam's hamsters let out little whimpers of worry, their master stroking each furry cheek softly as a means to comfort them. He assured them he would be alright, pushing himself up with his arm and standing boldly.

“Now, I send thee forth; my Four Dark Gods Of Destruction! Maga-Z! Cham-P! Sun-D! Jum-P!” Gundam declared with an arm thrust out, gripping his agonizing stump as his hamsters dashed out of the room. He watched them all leave, worry deep in his eyes as he slumped back onto the floor. “Be safe… my small devas.”

Outside in the artificially lit night, Ishimaru and Mukuro traversed the end of the park for Gundam. While Mukuro was more than calm about the search, Ishimaru still had the blood-smeared sword gripped in his hand, consumed by malice and a vendetta against the Thirteenth Diary Holder. Mukuro took a look at the seething and slightly twitchy Ishimaru, concerned with his behavior change.

“I’m sure we're close to finding Thirteenth,” Mukuro said.

“Good,” Ishimaru snarled, “I’m tired of these stupid Diary Holders killing off the ones I love. When we find Thirteenth, I intend to make him pay…”

Just as they unknowingly edged closer to Gundam's location, the Four Dark Gods Of Destruction scurried in their direction. Before Ishimaru and Mukuro could act in any way, all four rodents spread out in a different direction each.

“After them!” Ishimaru demanded, “One might lead us to Thirteenth!”

“Let's split up,” Mukuro suggested. “If we do, things will go faster.”

“In that case, I’ll maintain contact in case my Diary picks up on anything! Go!”

Once the two ran in different directions, Ishimaru speed-dialed Mukuro's number, setting it to speaker while looking at different predictions on his Friendship Diary. One updated future change gave him the entry “20:42: Mukuro finds the chubby orange hamster at the game stand closest to the haunted ride. How perceptive she is in tracking down hamsters!” among several failed search attempts.

“Mukuro! There’s one at the game stand near the haunted house ride!” Ishimaru yelled into his phone.

At his command, Mukuro abandoned her fourth fruitless searching spot in favor of the game stand she’d visited earlier. When the game clerk saw her, however, they hurried their pace in closing up shop, only for Mukuro to come to the front quicker. Frisking through her wallet, Mukuro handed the clerk ¥500, but they shook their head in immediate refusal.

“Just one last game, and I promise I’ll never bother you again,” Mukuro pleaded, looking straight at the blended in Cham-P behind the clerk.

“No way in hell,” the clerk refused. “If you keep getting nothing but perfect shots, then my stand will look like some kind of joke! What, do ya think I’m running some chump business or something?”

“ _Please_. I really need this game. One more, and you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

“And just what’s in it for me?”

Without answering, Mukuro thought impulsively leaped forwards into the stand, the clerk trying to catch her and throw her out. Due to the Soldier’s speed, her chaser found it more and more difficult to catch up. Mukuro made a grab for Cham-P, who leaped out of the way rather quickly for someone of its physique. He hopped all around the stand, pressing a button that activated the squirt gun machine in the process. Mukuro saw this as her chance, quickly jumping backwards and getting behind an attached metal squirt gun, aiming carefully at the frantic Cham-P hopping in and out of the way.

“Let’s cool you off with a little water, shall we?” Mukuro said to herself, pressing a button and harshly blasting Cham-P with a jet of water.

Discombobulated by the water, the chubby hamster rolled forwards, staying still on the counter while Mukuro hopped over and grabbed him. Just as the clerk was about to try and get the Soldier again, she squirted him with water and bolted off, apologizing about the mess from afar.

“Mukuro!” Ishimaru called from her phone as she put Cham-P into her open bag. “I’ve got the sunflower eating one, but there’s another hamster about to pass right by you!”

Not even seconds after receiving the call, Jum-P ran right past Mukuro on all fours, refusing to stop even for a moment. Mukuro chased after the little thing, bumping and shoving aside startled park-goers. When the crowd was cleared enough, Mukuro continued to chase after Jum-P, who kept pushing himself forward with all his might. Close enough in proximity, Mukuro took a leap of faith, piloting herself right above the scared Jum-P and grabbing him, tumbling forward as the hamster squirmed in her fair grasp.

“Okay, that’s two down,” Mukuro said to herself, brushing Jum-P’s dirt covered head off with a careful finger and putting him in the open bag to grant it as much oxygen as possible. She put her Tactics Diary to her mouth, ready to speak. “Kiyotaka, I’m steps away from the Ferris Wheel. Have you located the final hamster?”

“No, I haven’t,” Ishimaru responded from the other line. “Stay put, I’ll be right over to where you are.”

With Sun-D secure in his open string bag, Ishimaru bolted through the park atmosphere until he came across Mukuro near the Ferris Wheel. Looking at his Friendship Diary, Ishimaru couldn’t find a single prediction about Mukuro finding the missing Maga-Z. They both looked around the area, trying to find a lead on the last Dark God Of Destruction. All of a sudden, a shriek of terror was heard from a refreshment stand, something apparently bouncing off and knocking over condiments. The small object kept dashing forth, Ishimaru and Mukuro quickly recognizing it as the hamster Maga-Z.

“The last one!” Ishimaru pointed out, bolting forward with Mukuro after Maga-Z.

Determined and all too ready to outsmart the humans, Maga-Z kept pressing forward. However, Ishimaru proved to be just as fast, grabbing the rodent with both hands. Maga-Z thought fast, nipping Ishimaru in the finger and forcing him to let go with a loud “OUCH!” into the night.

“You’re not getting away, hamster!” Ishimaru proclaimed, picking up the pace once again.

Maga-Z ran and ran, accidentally leading his chasers all the way to the building where their initial target lied in hiding. Looking up, the hamster let a panicked expression take over his face, realizing his exact mistake after running too far through the open door in a frenzy. Before he could escape and try to lead his chasers elsewhere, Ishimaru snuck up on Maga-Z and grabbed him, stuffing him into the open bag and finalizing his capture.

“That’s four of them,” Mukuro noted, looking all around her. “What building is this?”

“Who knows?” Ishimaru said. “Perhaps some sort of large office?”

“I’ve never seen an amusement park office this big.” Mukuro spotted an open door letting light out of it, going inside. “It’s a lost and found.”

Ishimaru followed her in, thankfully being the only other person inside the messy room. As the hamsters fussed and fought inside each bag of capture, Mukuro found an empty cage abandoned by its original owner. Opening it, she commanded Ishimaru to do the same for his bag when she made Cham-P and Jum-P go inside, the Hall Monitor forcing Sun-D and Maga-Z into the cage with their friends. The cage was shut and locked immediately, putting the hamster kerfuffle to rest for good.

“And now, we finally put an end to Thirteenth,” Ishimaru hissed, drawing the equipped sword upwards and leaving the room while Mukuro held the cage of hamsters by the handle.

He checked his Friendship Diary, finding a prediction that read “20:56: Mukuro finds the room where Thirteenth is, keeping the troublesome hamsters in her possession. And now, to rightfully avenge Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun once and for all!”. Smirking darkly, Ishimaru followed Mukuro as she went up the stairs to the second and highest floor, finding a room at the end of the hallway that was creaked open. The sounds of painful hisses and winces could be heard from the other side, the Fifth and Sixth Diary Holders knowing exactly where their target was. Ishimaru took no time to enter the room with Mukuro, kicking the door open and flipping the switch to see a startled Gundam on the other side.

“You…!” Gundam gasped, shocked. “How did you locate my whereabouts?!” He turned his attention to the defeated, yet otherwise safe hamsters trapped in the cage Mukuro was holding. “The Four Dark Gods Of Destruction! Release them at once, Fifth!” he demanded, roaring with anger.

“Don’t worry, Thirteenth,” Ishimaru growled, drawing his sword in front of him and taking an angry step forward at a time as his tone dripped with a remarkable amount of toxin. “Your precious pets will be fine after this. However, I can’t exactly promise the same for you. Not after what you did to my friends!”

Ishimaru started picking up the pace in his step, his eyes all the more rage-filled. Gundam scrambled backwards, kicking himself up from the floor as he backed to the furthest point in the room. His heart raced and panicked, Gundam himself trying to act quickly before it was too late. The only remaining hand gripped firmly on his Future Diary situated in front of his abdomen, Gundam decided on an impulsive action of defense. looking at both Ishimaru and the incarcerated Four Dark Gods Of Destruction.

“You shall release my friends at once--” Gundam started, reaching for his dagger with a phantom arm, gasping when he remembered how he no longer had it. “No! I’m unable to unsheathe my weapon!”

Close enough in distance to the powerless Gundam, Ishimaru pierced the long sword blade not only through the screen of the Divine Beast Diary, but also right through Gundam’s gut. Frozen and in more pain than ever, Gundam could only let out choppy breaths of agony as Ishimaru remorselessly ripped the blade from his opponent’s body, the paler-toned male falling forward and dropping his broken Future Diary. As he could feel his body preparing to fade from existence in lieu of a fatal elimination, Gundam’s eyes shakily moved upwards to get another look at the frightened and heartbroken Four Dark Gods Of Destruction.

“Maga-Z… Sun-D… Cham-P… J-Jum-P…” Gundam breathed, his body malforming alongside his deep and weary voice. “Perhaps my succeeding lifetime… will at last be mighty as yours are…”

When the final words ever spoken by Gundam Tanaka passed his lips, the Thirteenth Diary Holder closed his tear-shedding eyes as his body twisted and turned to the point where it’d become a swirling vortex. In seconds, that vortex spun around until nothing but air stood in that spot, the now-useless Divine Beast Diary turning slightly on the flat floor as it soaked in its former owner’s discarded blood puddle.

Dropping his blood-drenched sword, Ishimaru turned around and walked out of the room without facing Mukuro. The heart once fiery and passionate now beat heavily and somberly, though no tears fell from his tired eyes while Mukuro followed him out of the building.

“I’m ready to go now,” Ishimaru said lowly to Mukuro. “I’ve had more than enough of Hirakata Park for a good while.”

“You deserve a rest after what you’ve been through today,” Mukuro agreed, leading him towards the park entrance. “Besides, it’s almost curfew.”

As the two passed yellow police tape in front of the Fantastic Coaster Rowdy, the sight of it alone made Ishimaru’s heart twist and ache, his urge to cry hard again coming strong. He let a few hard sobs out with thick drippings of tears the closer they got to the entrance, wiping them away while Mukuro didn’t hesitate to comfort him.

Even going out of the park altogether, the heartbroken Hall Monitor felt indescribably discontent and grief-filled from losing Mondo and Chihiro for good. However, on the way back to the train station, Ishimaru felt a whole new feeling grow in him when an idea sprouted inside his head. He’d doubted it back when he lost his father to the unstable hands of Mikan Tsumiki, but now… he accepted it with open arms.

 _“This injustice… is only temporary,”_ Ishimaru thought, eyebrows creasing darkly as he set a whole new goal for himself down the road. _“Without a doubt, I’ll make sure heinous crimes like these never happen again!”_


	24. Day 44: Resurrecting A New Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> The Despaired Programmer: *ecstatic Jesus Burgess laughter* Though is that all you like this story for? If so, then I'm a little disappointed. True, it's a wonderful ship, but still...
> 
> Gamekrazy306: I accept reader tears as thanks~ ♥ But thanks to you for the kind comment!
> 
> Zeke: Hon, I've been on my way to Hell for years. This was only pushing me closer and closer~ Though really, I thought the other non-Holder death would have gotten you.
> 
> (Important note: There aren't many players left, so the story will be drawing to a close sometime soon. Regardless, there's still plenty of story left until the end, so keep reading!)

“Are we all present and accounted for?” Kamukura asked in his realm, looking at the remaining five participating Diary Holders separated by a large gap of swirling red “DEAD END” text in each circle belonging to the eliminated players.

“Well, considering everyone else is, y’know, _dead_ ,” Junko reminded Kamukura, waving a palm back and forth in front of the stands, “this is all ya got left.”

“Whatever. It only means I can get rid of this stupid role faster.”

All five of the remaining Diary Holders stood firm in their circular loops, eyeing one another despite the shadows still concealing identities. In the sixth loop, Ishimaru looked at everyone but Mukuro next to him with a malicious gaze, more than furious about what had recently transpired. When he turned to the stoic Mukuro, his gaze lightened slightly just by her presence, but only halfway.

“As you five probably know by now, the Survival Game’s coming to an end,” the titanic Kamukura announced. “Not only that, but Fifth and Sixth have been taking the lead by killing off everybody who’s no longer with us.”

“Dang, and here I thought Sixth was just some everyday wimp,” the gritty voice from the twelfth ring, picking their ear nonchalantly as they turned to the right. “Guess we’ve got some tough competition, eh, Tenth?”

“Yes, my dearest one,” Tenth crooned affectionately before getting bold. “With you by my side, we’ll conquer the hell out of the rest!”

“Someone seems pretty confident…” the person in the third ring sighed, throwing their arms up.

“Sixth, any thoughts or concerns?” Kamukura asked without much care in his voice, resting his cheek on his fist and rolling his blood red eyes.

“If anybody is going to become God, it shall be me!” Ishimaru boldly declared, clenching his fist passionately. “When I take your place, Kamukura-kun, everything with the world will be well! And I’m willing to bet the rest of you haven’t got a single viable reason to stand in mine and Fifth’s way!”

“Likewise, I vow to continue my duties as Sixth’s battle partner and personal knight,” Mukuro added, looking at the others without much expression. “Those brash enough to challenge us will fall. No exceptions.”

“So for now, we’ll both let you all off on a warning!” Ishimaru shouted. “Failure to heed our words will result in a merciless elimination!”

Kamukura rolled his eyes in near disgust, while a cat-like smile stretched Junko’s lips further apart as she watched on with her master. The Diary Holders who weren’t Ishimaru and Mukuro started getting paranoid, trembling at the obvious prowess they’ve shown as a team. Twelfth bucked up and gave assuring words to the worried Tenth, while Third gulped the saliva down their throat.

“Anyone else have anything to say?” Kamukura asked, getting silent headshakes as an answer. “No? Alright, now get out there and finish the Survival Game. Everything’s getting really close.”

After smiling at Mukuro, Ishimaru shot the rest of the anonymous Diary Holders dirty looks before his shaded form fizzed away from the room with his partner. Twelfth and Tenth looked at each other once again before fading from the room, leaving only one Diary Holder who was looking more than anxious. Their fingers twiddled with their creasing eyebrows, biting their lip in worry.

“Four more Diary Holders, that’s all it takes…” they said, “Then, I can have him back with me!”

“Third, hold on,” Kamukura interrupted, making Third’s form appear to the god without its shadows, making them look all over. “There’s something you should probably know before I send you back.”

“What? I already know the Survival Game rules!” Third insisted in their airy voice, “It’s been like fifty days since I got my Diary!”

“Yeah, but there’s something you didn’t let me tell you on the first day. See--”

“Aww, Izu-chan, don’t give it away!” Junko groused, floating up to Kamukura and tugging his long locks. “That’ll ruin the surprise!”

“Beat it, Second,” Kamukura told her boredly, flicking Junko away as if she were a mere bug. “Now, where was I? Oh yeah, something important.”

“What is it? I know how to play, and I’m not dead yet! All I gotta do is step up my game, beat the others, and I can bring back--”

“--You can’t.”

“I can’t… what? Are you saying I can’t beat the others and be God?”

“No, you’re probably the most able-bodied out of everyone. So, I guess you could beat someone, don’t really care though. What you _can’t_ do, however, is, listen carefully! Bring. A dead person. Back. To life.” Kamukura’s voice dripped like hot oil as he temporarily leaned in close to Third, whose face was still frozen in shock with a blue tint to their face.

“Wh-What…?!” Third gasped, stepping backwards with shaky feet, trying to fight the tears threatening to defy their ducts. “K-Kamukura… you’ve gotta be lying, aren’t you?!”

“Ugh, you still don’t believe me? Fine, if you’re not gonna take my word for it and leave me be, then I’ll show you.”

Kamukura waved a large hand, a cloud of darkness bubbling up in front of Third. The shadow took the form of a lifeless person no taller than Third by a few inches, laying flat on their back with an abominable amount of injuries all over them. Just looking at them horrified Third, who knelt down trying to shake their loved one back to consciousness.

“W-Wake up… please!” Third pleaded, their tear ducts defeated by an onset of water streams. “Come on! This was my one shot! Please wake up!” They continued to shake the cadaver, stopping the motion and hugging them close when no life flowed within, breaking down in tearful sobs all the more.

“Oh Me, are you done?” Kamukura scoffed, looking down at the mourning Third with no empathy whatsoever. “You wanted proof that even God can't wake the dead, so you got it.”

“This was my only reason to keep going…” Third choked, still crying. “What's the point of playing this dumb Survival Game if I can't bring back…”

“There's still a way to make things right for yourself,” Kamukura explained, making the dead body fade into darkness. “Whoever’s God may not be able to resurrect people, but they can time travel to their heart’s content. So, in case that's not enough info for you either, just go back in time and stop the accident.”

“Go back… in time?”

“That's what I said, Third. Kill the other four, become God, go back and stop the accident so no one dies.”

Wiping their ever strong tears, Third sniffled and coughed, setting their newer purpose in stone. Kamukura asked them if they were all set, sending them back to the mortal realm after getting a yes. Once alone with only Junko, Kamukura let out a wistful sigh, Third’s grief and shock at the one thing God can't do all too familiar.

“Ah, that was some good old fashioned despair right there~!” Junko chirped, watching the entire thing play again on her Torture Diary, taking in the sobs and cries as if it were ecstasy. “You're right, Izu-chan! Tellin’ Third the truth was much better an option! Kinda like lookin’ in a mirror, isn't it?”

“If I wanted your pointless opinion, Junko, I’d have asked for it,” Kamukura groused in a low tone, turning away from her in his throne.

“But it's true! I'm willing ta bet money that back when you actually felt something, Third wasn't the only one who intended ta bring back the dead! Need I remind you of ‘you-know-who’?”

“He's… still here.”

“Pffft! You call that drone the real deal? Yeah, he's just as ugly as the first, but you know he’ll never be the same thing in your eyes!”

Kamukura let out a low snarl, ducking his head down to get away from Junko. The girl with large pigtails smirked, knowing the deity was starting to crack under pressure. Floating up to him, Junko summoned the aqua and green Inference Diary in front of its old wielder, Kamukura's eyes widening ever so slightly with suppressed sadness.

“This look familiar?” Junko asked, reading the tragic entry word for word after. “‘13:07: Hospital floors 2-5 were blown up to try and kill Second, Nagi’s occupied room being among the wreckage. Evidence bullets: The array of charred corpses including Nagito Komaeda’s, pipe bomb remains, building debris, and the detonator covered in my hand and fingerprints.’ I’ll be honest, I never took you for the destructive type! Not that it even worked, of course!”

“You planted them…” Kamukura growled, eyes furrowing as he swallowed more guilt. “I thought--”

“--What? Did cute wittle First really think he could turn my bombs against me? Or maybe you forgot your poor sick Nagito was still getting his lymphoma treatment? Either way, that's gotta be your biggest fuck up yet!”

Kamukura gripped his head, fighting back tears as sweat poured past his extended black hair. Every moment, every burnt scent, explosion, and encounter with the burnt corpse of someone very close to him came up as horrible memories. Junko repeating a cheerful taunt over and over in a state of delight pushed Kamukura off the edge, prompting him to conjure a large birdcage hanging from above in the back, Junko inside fussing and fighting.

“What the hell! Lemme out, Izuru!” Junko demanded. “You can try and cage me all ya want, but ya can't cage the past--”

With a growl and a snap of his godly fingers, Kamukura put a large dog muzzle over Junko to shut her up. He ignored her muffled noises and cage rattles, squishing his cheek in his palm as he made the Inference Diary fade again. Kamukura stuffed the horrible memories of his ultimate blunder back into the grim recesses of his mind. As they retreated, the teenaged God resumed doing whatever he pleased.

* * *

The following Friday morning in the mortal realm, Ishimaru marched to his first period and homeroom, a week-long darkened mood still clouding his thoughts. His red eyes, usually vivid and boldly sharp, now weary and dry from gallons of shed tears over the past seven nights. No smile would dare persuade his lips, instead creased downwards below dark circles under his eyes.

On his way to homeroom, Ishimaru caught the sight of someone dashing through the filled hallway, knocking others to one side in their reckless path. When they passed him laughing, Ishimaru didn’t bat an eyelash to grab them by the arm and subdue them, not releasing his grip despite their struggles.

“Running in the school corridors is against school conduct!” Ishimaru snarled, “For that, you’ve just earned an entire week of detention!”

“What?! That’s bull!” the student complained. “Why can’t ya just let me off with a warning or something--”

“Because I’m authority, and you’ve failed to comply with it! Now, you can either get to class without anymore words, or I can extend your punishment! Your choice!”

“Geez, what crawled up your ass and died? You need to ease up a little instead of being such a hardass…”

“Make that two weeks for mouthing off! Don’t think I won’t go for three!”

“Okay okay, I’m going! Sheesh…”

Ishimaru took a mental note of who they were, being sure to give their detention slip to their instructor later on. Rather than let them off with a civil “have a nice day” or firmly warning them to learn from their mistake, Ishimaru walked off without a word, expression still under the spell of his irritation. Without looking back, Ishimaru arrived at homeroom. Setting books on the desk and his bag beside his seat, the Hall Monitor turned to where Mondo and Chihiro would be sitting if not for an unfortunate previous Friday. Instead, their respective desks had a white lily in a vase each, a grim reminder that they were to never return. Gripping his wooden desk, Ishimaru buried his eyes in his soft palm, feeling an onset of tears drip out as he felt his face get pressured and ruddy.

“It still hurts to just think about,” Ishimaru choked, burying the ends of his fingers deep in his forehead. Looking up at no one, Ishimaru rubbed thick tears out of his eyes, blinking to ease the liquid flow. “Only a God can make this right. It’ll be as if no one ever died to begin with!”

Seconds later, Mukuro came in and set her own belongings down at the wooden desk near Mondo’s memorial one. The sight of the vased flower on his and Chihiro’s desks made her uneasy, all the more guilty when she saw Ishimaru had still been understandably crying over them. Adding insult to injury, it felt as though Mukuro were looking in a mirror, reflecting both her past and present goals.

“How are you holding up?” Mukuro asked Ishimaru.

“Not so good, sorry,” Ishimaru sighed, talking to Mukuro in a civil tone. “This Survival Game has got to stop.”

“Only one of us can succeed Kamukura-kun, though. True, I can just resurrect you with Naegi-kun and the others, but will we be able to see each other again?”

“I’m sure there would be a way we’d still be together. After all, a God can do anything!”

“Very true, but…” Mukuro hesitated to finish her assortment of words, worryingly looking downwards slightly. “I’d still lose you in the process.”

“I’m aware, but I’ll make sure you never have to worry about it!” Ishimaru assured her encouragingly. “I’m going to keep myself alive for your sake. If you go, then I go as well!”

“Taka, if you put it like that--”

“--No, it's a must. For reasons besides wanting to stay by your side, there isn’t much use to keep playing afterwards.” When he said that, Ishimaru took out his closed Friendship Diary to show Mukuro, putting it away right after.

“In that case, I’ll keep myself alive for your sake until we're the only two Diary Holders left. Sound like a plan?”

“Indeed it does! Because if not for you, I’d have no reason to keep going and surviving this Game. And for that, I truly thank you for staying by me through everything.”

Such heartfelt words made Mukuro smile, giving Ishimaru a loving gaze as he returned such a look. Those expressions would quickly be more professional when their other classmates arrived to class. Sayaka Maizono and Hagakure came in at the same time, wincing somewhat when they saw the desks of Mondo and Chihiro, looking at the grouchy Ishimaru as he worked.

“Good morning, Ishimaru-kun,” Sayaka greeted, only to be completely ignored by him. “I'm really sorry about your friends. If you wanna talk to someone, I’ll listen.”

“...Thank you,” Ishimaru said to Sayaka without so much as looking up. “It's appreciated.”

“Same for me too, Ishimaru-chi,” Hagakure added. “It's really a shame what happened. No one deserves ta go through that.”

“Thank you too, Hagakure-kun,” Ishimaru repeated, nodding and giving both students a brief glance.

“Ishimaru, my boy,” Sakura said when she came into the room. “Have you been recovering well?”

Ishimaru didn't respond verbally, giving instead a head shake to tell her he wasn't. Next came a somewhat wary Asahina, who looked right at Ishimaru while Sayaka and Hagakure took their seats.

“Hey, Ishimaru, I--” Asahina began.

“--Your condolences are appreciated. Now, I'm trying to work,” Ishimaru cut her off.

Asahina decided by the curt response that leaving Ishimaru be was the best option while remaining supportive. Sooner or later, the rest of the class came in, some not bothering to give Ishimaru a second glance, instead not caring at all for the situation. Ishimaru was just as apathetic, though, quietly brushing off the presence of anyone without the name Mukuro Ikusaba.

* * *

When class finally ended, the despondent Ishimaru waited for Mukuro to gather her things before walking out with the Soldier. On their way out, they encountered Leon, who scratched his head and looked somewhat hesitant.

“Hey, Ishi,” Leon started, “I don't usually do this, but just know I'm sorry about what happened last Friday. I know how much Mon and Chihiro meant to ya.”

“The entire world,” Ishimaru said in a low tone, starting to walk off with Mukuro.

“Wait wait! I'm just tryin’ ta help ya feel better, man! I ain't givin’ ya a rough time today!”

“Very thoughtful of you, Kuwata-kun,” Ishimaru told him. “But don't worry. Sooner or later, it’ll be like they never died to begin with!”

“O…kay, whatever that means. Listen, you take care, ‘k, Ishi?”

Ishimaru nodded, sending Leon off to do his own business. Ishimaru looked at the time, seeing he could be late for his Disciplinary Committee duties at any moment and speed walking through the halls.

“Let me come with you today,” Mukuro insisted, following. “If you'll permit me, that is.”

“I do,” Ishimaru didn't hesitate to agree. “You're probably the most efficient helper I’ve had. If not the only.”

With but a few seconds to spare, Ishimaru and Mukuro arrived at the Disciplinary Committee. Neither took too much time to get things set up, tending to their respective jobs along with the other members. Mukuro sorted through the detentions and other disciplinary penalties while handing them to Ishimaru. Once he received them, he wrote the names of the misbehaving students on the board, his eyebrows creased and expression still sour with misery.

“Hayato Haruki; three hours for skipping class,” Ishimaru mumbled to himself, scribbling the name on the board and moving onto the next. “Sota Yuki for violating corridor safety, Saki Miyu and Mei Mio for unauthorized school violence…”

“Ishimaru-kun, have you tended to your other duties for today?” another Disciplinary Committee member asked, shuddering when they received a nasty glare from Ishimaru. “O-Okay, never mind. I’m sure you have it covered.”

The SHSL Hall Monitor sighed, continuing to write the names of the detention attendees for the day on the board. Mukuro looked on from her own little task, worry seeds sprouting from within at Ishimaru’s equally strong irritability. When she handed more important disciplinary notes to him, Mukuro stopped Ishimaru from going back to the board to try and speak with the male.

“Mukuro, please,” Ishimaru interrupted. “I’ll speak with you at a later time. Right now, I must tend to my duties.”

“But, it's about--”

“--We’ll talk later, okay? Now, resume tending to your job.”

Ishimaru walked away with the remaining slips, leaving Mukuro all alone. Sighing, she got back to work, intention of talking to Ishimaru as soon as possible. Mukuro watched him give nothing but angry glances to those his sour state of mind saw as prey, guarding him from going completely over the edge.

Later on, Nonetheless, everyone he’d snapped or glared at got right back to work, obviously smart enough to comply with the pain he was feeling about recent events.

* * *

Before anyone knew it, the meeting for the Disciplinary Committee had come to a close along with an extra class. The clock’s marking of a quarter before one o’clock told a lot of students to start heading off to lunch or wherever they pleased for the half hour or so. Ishimaru marched from his recent class with the intention of sealing himself away in his room to study in solitude. Instead, his Friendship Diary made a loud interference sound from his pocket, Ishimaru flipping it open and reading the new entries about Mukuro.

“‘12:48: Mukuro ambushes me inches from my bedroom, forcing me to comply with an urgent demand. A more subtle approach would have been less frightening, but I wonder what she wants to talk to me about?’,” Ishimaru read one entry from his phone. “I’m really not in the mood to chat, so I should stay clear of Mukuro for now.”

Seeing he still had a good two minutes until the future made its mark, Ishimaru speed walked to the Dormitory Wing. Reaching for his door knob, Ishimaru turned it downwards and entered, quickly shutting and locking the door.

“Good,” Ishimaru sighed with empty relief, putting his school supplies on his work desk and sitting down. “At least I’ll be able to--”

Ishimaru wasn't two sentences into his science textbook when he heard the doorbell ring. Getting up, he answered his door, only to find no one there to answer to.

“Hello?” Ishimaru called, looking back and forth until he grew annoyed. “Honestly, I'm in no mood for childish pranks--”

The Hall Monitor nearly screamed when Mukuro popped up behind him after returning to his room, holding her jagged Fenrir knife to Ishimaru's neck while keeping his firm arms behind his back. Although a bit sweaty in the forehead from the surprise, Ishimaru felt little fear, trusting Mukuro enough to know she won't actually hurt him.

“We must talk,” Mukuro demanded in her rather icy tone of voice. “I have no intention of leaving until we’ve done so.”

“Fine then, let's talk,” Ishimaru agreed, easily defeated.

Mukuro removed the knife from Ishimaru's neck, letting him go completely as he took a seat on his own bed where the giant penguin plush sat minding its own business. Mukuro put her knife away and sat down next to him, paying scarce heed to the Hall Monitor’s apparent uneasiness.

“Kiyotaka, this can't keep going on,” Mukuro started.

“What?” Ishimaru asked.

“The way you’ve been lashing out at everyone who isn't me. You're biting the hands that are trying to feed you.”

“I know it isn't the right thing to do, but they're giving me nothing but words of pity! Only you and I know how agonizing the Survival Game and its casualties are! They’ll never understand it!”

Ishimaru kept venting his frustration, gripping his head angrily as the released words danced around him. Mukuro started to see where he was coming from, but refused to end things there.

“Kiyotaka, I know we're seemingly the only ones in school participating,” Mukuro said. “But, there are people outside of it who still care enough to try and make you feel better.”

“The only way I’ll feel better is when I bring Kyoudai and Chihiro back to life!” Ishimaru barked, “You're acting as if everyone is able to make it all better!”

“Look, none of them really can because they aren't Survival Game participants. And I get it; you're angry because they won't exactly understand the circumstances of losing Oowada-kun and Fujisaki-san.”

“Precisely! I just… if only they could properly empathize. Or at least get rid of my pain.”

“Taka, that's not possible. Yes, grief-stemmed pain and anger is an awful feeling. Believe me, I’ve been in an identical boat.”

“I know you have. You're the most understanding and aware of my circumstances--”

“-- _However_ , you only feel it because you held your friends dearly. If no pain was felt, then they’d have died in vain because no one mourned them. Not to mention, you wouldn't have anyone trying to comfort you out of concern because they’d have no reason to.”

Ishimaru couldn't say anything as a proper response. He began to heed Mukuro's helpful words, starting to rethink how he’d been acting towards everyone else since the previous Friday. Guilt arose in him, replacing the anger in his body within seconds. Ishimaru's heart did a slight jump when Mukuro put a hand atop his, looking at him with softened eyes.

“Taka, what I’m saying is to give others who want to help you a chance,” Mukuro encouraged. “I mean, you're the one who taught me to do as such, and God knows what would have happened if you didn't.”

“That's true…” Ishimaru sniffled, tears coming back to his eyes before outright sobbing and hugging Mukuro tightly as his head was buried into her shoulder. “I’ve been so selfish! How could I have mistreated such… such considerate classmates?! I deserve to be struck for being so cruel!”

“Kiyotaka, you--”

“--No! Please do it!” Ishimaru, still sitting on his bed, glued his hands to the side. “Mukuro, I insist you hit me as punishment! Give it your very all now!”

Mukuro stood still for a second, Ishimaru closing his somewhat watery eyes shut to prepare for the expected physical strike. Instead of pain in any area of his body, Ishimaru flung his eyelids wide open when Mukuro leaned forward and kissed his temple, her hands gingerly grabbing his upper arms for a second. Ishimaru sputtered incoherently, face now a shade of red that would put his eyes to shame.

“I wouldn’t dream of striking you, Taka,” Mukuro giggled, cheeks somewhat roseate as she gave him a subtle smile. “It’s a personal promise of mine to keep you safe, and to break it would be disgusting of me.”

“Y-Yes,” Ishimaru breathed, putting a hand to his kissed temple as if it were some holy artifact.

“So, remember what I said to you. Just try and take things a bit easier from now on. Understand?”

“I do understand, Mukuro. From now on, I promise to stop blockading people from helping me. I honestly can’t thank you enough.”

Mukuro wished Ishimaru a good day and left, the scarlet-eyed male frozen solid in a ruddy love-induced stupor. His heart raced a mile a minute, at the same time refraining from falling back into a pitfall of despair after being recently motivated to keep recovering properly. Ishimaru turned on his bed, facing the large penguin plush with warm eyes. He pulled it close, taking in the feeling of the person who initially claimed it as a prize and smiling. Ishimaru finally came to after a few good moments, snapping himself back to reality and releasing the penguin in favor of his work desk.

As he continued with the homework received thus far, Ishimaru took another look at his Friendship Diary’s entries. All of them were about Mukuro and what she was to do down the road. One that had just come true read “12:58: Mukuro kisses me on the temple after getting me to stop lashing out at the others. Ah, I love her so much…”. The message itself made Ishimaru’s cheeks flush, but at this point, all he could do was smile and accept things.

Ishimaru looked at the portrait on his desk, the picture inside depicting himself, Mondo, and Chihiro posing happily in front of a set camera. Feeling the tears come back to his eyes at the now melancholic memory, Ishimaru grabbed the portrait and held it close, allowing the impatient tears to fall down onto his pants and some of the frame. He held his cherished portrait of friends in front of him, looking at Mondo and Chihiro’s happy faces surrounding his own, letting more heavy tears fall from his eyes as a tiny smile gave his lips the subtle hint.

“We’ll all see each other again soon,” Ishimaru promised to the portrait. “I’ll make sure of it, my friends…”

 


	25. Night 45: The Third Is The Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses are... good!:
> 
> The Despaired Programmer: Oh, okay! Thank you for clearing that up. And may I just say I agree with everything you just said! Naegi gets waaay too much spotlight in canon, so I usually write about other characters besides him. In fact, I think he's a side character in every DR fic I've written, or just outright doesn't appear. Don't get me wrong, I like Naegi. But... let someone else have a turn, won't ya, Neggs? (PS, I write my DR/SDR2 stories with the assumption everyone's read canon, so I recommend looking up the SDR2 characters' backstory in case I add stuff for the plot)
> 
> Skittlethrill: (What number is "*th"? Or is this a way of you being unsure? Because that's totally fine) Hee-hee, I was wondering whether or not someone would catch that! Good eye on the Yandere Simulator names I used! I actually gave YS a spin over the weekend and... it is harder and more stressful than it looks.
> 
> Gamekrazy306: They are, aren't they? I'd bet if they interacted more in canon, they'd have some adequate chemistry together! (Plus, it's my OTP, so...) You'll see where things go with Izuru and Junko preeeetty soon, friend!
> 
> Zeke: Bar his mother, Mukuro's pretty much all he has left. Also, I guess this is a bit of a nod to how Ishimaru started acting all asshole-y in canon (as Ishida) as a means to cope with Mondo and Chihiro's deaths. Only this time, he didn't shift into Maximum Overdrive and Mukuro helped him come back to his senses. PS, you'll get your answer for Third in this chapter. Tenth and Twelfth I'm not ready to give away juuust yet.
> 
> (PS, don't let this goofy chapter name fool you. This chapter's not a happy one)

On the Saturday evening following, Asahina walked through the dimming town, somberly grasping a bouquet of lily of the valleys. She didn't take long to arrive at a cemetery chock full of solid headstones and crypts of stone. Each and every commemorative resting place went ignored by the forlorn SHSL Swimmer; all but one.

One specific grave was adorned with medals, a few portraits, and a bouquet of wilted flowers. The headstone was deeply engraved in its surface with the words “Asahina Yuta: So departs a beloved son, brother, & teammate through and through” above a carved September 4th before his death date. Asahina replaced the wilted bouquet with the fresh one of lily of the valleys, stroking Yuta’s headstone with a sorrowful palm.

“Hi, Yuta,” Asahina greeted, forcing a little smile with sad eyes. “It's big sis again. Listen, I know I’ve promised you hundreds of times I’d bring you back, but… let's just say there's been a huge change of plans.” Yuta’s grave of course didn’t respond, but Asahina kept conversing as if her younger brother were still around. “Don’t worry though, Yutie! I’m still gonna make sure you’re well and breathing again, okay? When your big sis is a Goddess, it’ll be like one big nightmare.”

Asahina looked on at Yuta’s headstone, then at one of the portraits at the foot. The one her ocean blue eyes were set on depicted an early memory of her toddler self grinning brightly and sitting at the foot of her weary mother’s hospital bed, holding a newborn and bundled version of Yuta. Another was a photo of Asahina standing next to Yuta, holding his arm up in victory as Yuta himself displayed the two gold medals around his neck. Sandwiched between both memories was a regular picture of Yuta, smiling humbly and waving to the camera.

The SHSL Swimmer’s eyes teared up and dripped with the salty liquid, Asahina herself bowing her head and pulsing with a few choppy sobs. Crawling closer to the headstone, Asahina hugged it and leaned her head into it, letting tears drip from her eyes as she hummed a familiar soft tune. As if the stone were her brother, Asahina rocked back and forth slowly while humming somberly, tears leaking from her slightly parted eyelids.

“Worst part is, I probably could have stopped everything from going wrong…” she sniffled, her mind bringing her all the way back to the whole tragedy befalling Yuta.

* * *

_“Aww, my baby brother’s first sports day!” Asahina remembered beaming, looking on at her prepared sibling on the sidelines before the competition was to begin._

_“Aoi, c’mon!” Yuta chuckled as his sister tussled his hair excitedly, fixing it right after she lifted her hand. “I’ve been in sports competitions before! Why’s today suddenly such a big deal?”_

_“Because, it’s your first middle school one, that’s why! Yutie,  this has gotta be the biggest sports event of the year! Of course it’s a big deal!”_

_“I know that, and I’m completely stoked! I made it into my two favorite events! Even if I’m not as good a swimmer as you are, sis.”_

_“Yuta, quit saying that! I may be the Super High School Level Swimmer, but that doesn’t mean you gotta compare yourself to me. If you did, Mom would have named you ‘Aoi II’.”_

_“Yeah, but ‘Aoi I’ is still the best swimmer out there! You’d have to be blind to deny that!”_

_Asahina laughed, flattered as she scratched below her swirled up ponytail. She heard the whistle start and commence the first field event of soccer, warning Yuta that his own competition would be starting very soon. Clapping her hands in preparation, Asahina commanded Yuta to do some more stretches and warm-ups for the future._

_“Come on, Yuta! I wanna see those hammies pumped!” Asahina shouted. “You wanna win, or what?!”_

_“Yeah!” Yuta exclaimed, moving onto doing squats and toe touches for a few more seconds._

_“Can't hear you! I said YOU WANNA WIN, OR WHAT?!”_

_“YEAH! Let's do this!”_

_When Yuta shouted his determination, he swung his arm, grabbed  Asahina's hand, and both siblings squeezed it tight until their quick release. Asahina walked off with Yuta where his school’s running track was._

_It didn't take too long for the festival’s first track and field event to occur. Before anyone knew it, all six runners had their hands firmly glued to the track, their rears perched up opposite to their lowered chests. At the third running block was Yuta, who looked back at the waving and cheering Asahina in the crowd._

_“Kick some serious ass, Yuta!” she shouted, clapping and waving as encouragement._

_Smiling, Yuta got fierce and turned back to the track filled with hurdles. The referee began with an “Runners on your marks, get set…”, pausing for a few seconds before firing the signal gun at the same time they said “GO!”_

_On that call, the six runners dashed forwards, the crowd cheering loudly throughout the air. Yuta could hear the sound of his sister’s voice refusing to stop cheering and shouting with motivation, but kept running lest he lose the race. Everyone came across the first set of hurdles, Yuta hopping over each and every white stand without even making contact. With each jump, Yuta panted to supply himself with temporary air in order to push himself forward as the finish line was right in his view. He turned for a second, seeing only one other person was just as close to it as he was, Yuta’s brown eyebrows furrowing deep while he kept running forward over the last hurdle. Closing his eyes, Yuta’s feet never stopped moving for a millisecond, feeling his body pass the ribbon._

_The crowd got louder from the result, Asahina cheering on with utter joy as the scoreboard presented the first place runner's name as “Asahina Yuta”. Yuta soon caught on about what she was cheering at, grinning and jumping for joy at his victory. All three runners who crossed the finish line the quickest went over to the ranking stands, being handed medals for their excellent sprint over the hurdle-covered track. Once the gold, silver, and bronze medals were all placed over the necks of their new owners, the three runners got off the stands and disbanded._

_“Yeah! I did it!” Yuta cheered, going over to the stands and meeting up with his older sister. “Aoi, ya saw me out there, didn’t ya?”_

_“I never took my eyes off you for a second, Yutie!” Asahina beamed, hugging her brother with pride. “Awesome race out there!”_

_“Thanks, sis! But, don’t go celebrating this victory yet! I’ve still got that swim relay to win!”_

_“Oh, right. Still, I’m sure--” Asahina was interrupted by the sound of her stomach gurgling, reminding the girl to get a snack. “Getting kinda hungry. Is there time to get something to eat before your event?”_

_“Oh yeah, plenty! My relay’s in like fifteen minutes, and there's a donut shop right across the street.”_

_“You sure you don't want me to stick around, Yuta?”_

_“Hey, I won't stop you! Besides, I gotta head to the locker rooms to prepare, and it’ll look a little weird if my older sister comes with me.”_

_“Well, duh! I'd never go into a boys’ locker room for middle schoolers! I’ll be quick enough so I can see you start the relay!”_

_“Okay, Aoi, hurry back!”_

_Asahina recalled promising her doomed brother she’d return, running over to the donut shop across that street. When she walked out towards the close-by entrance, Asahina remembered seeing a strange man with his hands lodged in his lumpy pockets. He was heading in the same direction as Yuta's school, so she assumed he was a parent or relative of one of her brother’s classmates._

_Waiting in the lengthy line, Asahina was overcome with boredom, wanting nothing more than her donuts and to get back and root for the younger brother she so held dear. Bothersome seconds turned to aggravating minutes until eventually, Asahina reached the line after doing nothing but pull out and put back her cerulean iPod Touch for the time. She put the device back once more, finally ordering a plethora of flavors within a dozen._

_Although the memory of walking out with a dozen of her favorite treats in the universe was joyous and bright, Asahina also remembered how that feeling would grow sickly with horror at what she had witnessed almost immediately after paying and leaving the shop. What snapped her out of her act of munching on a sticky dough ball of glaze was a thunderous BOOM, smoke and flames following suit from the building that was none other than Yuta and several others’ middle school._

_“Yuta!” Asahina gasped, for once dropping the rest of her donuts in favor of rushing to the aid of her brother. “Hang on, Yutie! Aoi’s coming!”_

_She sprinted fast enough to hurry into the building as the paramedics and police started arriving at the scene. While running in a panic, Asahina bumped right into the same guy in a trenchcoat she saw earlier, his somewhat gaunt face, brown eyes, and waxy dirty blonde hair evident. When she made eye contact with him, he immediately ran off from the smoking frenzy, leaving a small piece of plastic behind on the floor._

_“That guy…” Asahina pondered, taking out her cerulean iPod Touch and snapping a picture of the suspicious fellow’s back, putting it away before immediately running to the pool to find her brother._

_When Asahina finally arrived, a memory so horrible made its way into her brain so deeply that forgetting it would be exceedingly impossible. Arriving at the packed pool room, she not only saw that half of it was covered in cinder and blown to bits, but several pieces of bone, flesh, blood, and tissue could be seen charred in the debris. Paramedics were still fished to find victims and injured civilians, the police consoling the survivors. Asahina walked slowly through the pool room, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw a paramedics drag a few prematurely-dead corpses out of the drained pool. The last body carried away from its blood-hued vessel broke Asahina's heart._

_In the arms of the paramedic was the slaughtered Yuta Asahina, his lifeless body covered head to toe in burns so deep they exposed tissue and muscle meant to be kept secret from the world. Asahina's lip trembled with frozen horror as Yuta was slipped into a body bag and carried out on a stretcher. Tears started to stream from her pressuring face at the same time police grabbed her to try and carry her out._

_“Miss, it isn't safe here,” the cop told her, fighting with the struggling and bereaved sister. “You have to leave with the others.”_

_“NO! LET ME GO! I NEED TO SEE YUTA!” Asahina screamed, fighting and crying to get free. “I SAID LET ME GO!”_

_“Miss, stay calm! We’ll take care of this! You have to leave!”_

_“Not without him! He’s my brother! Let me go! LET ME GO, HE NEEDS ME!” Asahina kept fighting and shoving for freedom, only for the cop to call backup over and keep her detained. While being forced out, Asahina watched her brother disappear forever. “YUTA! YUTA, WAIT! **YUTAAAA**!”_

* * *

Every last second of that day hurt to just think about for Asahina, who’d left the cemetery after more sincere promises to the grave of her younger brother. On her way back to Hope's Peak Academy, Asahina took out her cerulean music playing device, reading mystic words on the screen that had either happened or were due to do as such. An upcoming prediction said “20:36 [City Bus Stop]: I managed to catch the bus at the last minute by sprinting for my life. Another excellent cardio exercise pulled off perfectly!”, expected to occur in less than five minutes.

With that now in mind, Asahina looked ahead to where the bus stop was and picked up the pace, her lime green sneakers taking her as far as possible. Within three or four minutes, Asahina managed to get aboard at the last second and pay before the bus took off to its next stops.

“At least thing’s been doing more good than harm lately,” Asahina remarked. “Not like when it first started acting all magical anyways.”

* * *

_The Swimmer’s memories brought her back to the days following Yuta’s death. She remembered quite accurately how sick and guilty she’d felt after returning to school days after her brother’s early funeral, having little motivation to do much of anything. Even Sakura’s frequent, yet subtle comforts did little good, seeing how Asahina was still down in the dumps about Yuta. It got to a point where she was far too depressed to change into day clothes sooner, instead laying on her bed wearing nothing but her underwear and her hair down as Sakura gave her condolence one day._

_“Asahina, my girl,” Sakura said, sitting on the bed next to the curled up and tearful Swimmer while putting a large, gentle hand on her. “Grieving is important in the healing process, but even that can’t continue without an end.”_

_“I know, Sakura-chan,” Asahina sighed, wiping more hasty tears as she turned to her friend. “It’d be a lot easier if I wasn’t the one who caused Yuta to die.”_

_“But you didn’t. Yuta’s death had nothing to do with you. Ishimaru’s father and other officers are still trying to find the bomber responsible and bring him to justice.”_

_“It’s still my fault, though! If I’d stayed at the festival, I… there was probably something I could have done to save him! I-Instead, I just haaad to leave and let my own flesh and blood die like that! Shouldn’t have taken my eyes off him for a second…”_

_Sakura could hear Asahina get increasingly angry and upset with every last word of self-blame, the Swimmer curling up further and letting the tears fall to her sheets. Her thick brown hair was an array of tangles, dripping slightly with the evidence of sorrow coming from her aquamarine eyes. Sniffles and sobs shook her body like a quake, Sakura’s gentle strokes failing to stop her grief at a prodigious level. If anything, her friend’s touch and presence, while actually appreciated, made Asahina curl up further into a ball of tears._

_“We all blame ourselves when we lose someone dear to us,” Sakura added. “However, it’s important you look past it and see the real picture for what it is. There wasn’t any logical way Yuta’s death could have been prevented.”_

_“I’d bet there was, Sakura-chan! M-Maybe I could have stayed behind and saved him from--”_

_“--Even if you were still in the building, there’s a large chance you’d have been blown up too. If that happened, things would have been a lot worse for more than just yourself. Do you honestly think a future where you were killed would have been better, Asahina?”_

_“No, of course I don’t! I just think one where I saved my brother from certain doom would have definitely been better. But, after my stupid mistake, look how well that turned out.”_

_“Aoi.” Sakura’s voice was firm, yet compassionate, made all the more strong by the use of Asahina’s first name. “All I’m saying is you certainly need time to mourn, but don’t hinder it with such awful possibilities. My best advice to you is to think things through a little more and keep yourself moving forward as usual. Even if it’s at a slower pace, you need to get there from this issue someday. Do you understand?”_

_“...Yes, I do,” Asahina sighed, finally looking up at her friend with misty eyes and a blood-hued face. “Thanks for taking time to help me, Sakura-chan.”_

_“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you when you need someone most, Asahina. You mean the most to me, and if something horrible became of you, I’d never forgive myself. If there’s anything else you need of me, don’t be afraid to ask.”_

_Asahina nodded, letting the towering and muscular female leave the room before shutting the door. Asahina rolled over on her bed, the slight draft teasing the exposed parts of her skin. Pushing herself up, she wiped some more tears away and got off her bed, taking Sakura’s words to heart._

_“She’s right,” Asahina sighed, “I need to keep myself moving forward. I don’t wanna be stuck in this dumb slump for the rest of my life. I’m just gonna get a little bite to eat, then start my evening workout.”_

_Asahina walked towards her dresser, taking out a clean pair of blue jean shorts, and her favorite red track jacket. She put the garbs on securely, also acquiring a pair of white knee socks under a red thigh band, fastening her usual pair of lime green sneakers to her feet before fixing her hair in its swirly high ponytail. Asahina looked at the cerulean iPod Touch on the dresser, picking it up immediately to prepare it for eventual recordings of her planned workout. Much to her surprise, however, Asahina saw words she definitely hadn’t put in herself._

_“How did I know I was gonna run a few laps at seven tonight?” Asahina wondered, looking at the strange entry in her large music device. “It even says I’m gonna beat my last personal best! Freaky…” Slapping her forehead once, Asahina shook her head and put the iPod in her pocket. “Calm down, Aoi. That’s probably the stress driving you nuts. Let’s just get this over with so I can settle my nerves.”_

_Asahina left her room, locking it tight as she headed down to the cafeteria for a snack. Certain parts of her mind still tugged at the bizarre message on her iPod Touch, so she took it right out of her pocket to look at it again. Much to Asahina’s surprise, however, the messages below the previous on the device’s touch screen were just as odd. One entry told her “19:27 [Workout Room]: Did a solid thirteen bench presses in a row. Go me!” while another read “19:48 [Pool Room]: Pulled off an outstanding butterfly lap through the pool and back. Wow, I’m on fire today!”. Below it was another entry of “20:10 [Downtown]: Made a nimble escape with an impressive sprint and some lucky jumps. Boy, was that a close call for me!”. Asahina hadn’t a clue about the last entry, instead ignoring it and brushing off her iPod Touch by putting it in her pocket as she went to the cafeteria for some much-needed donuts._

_By 7:00 pm, Asahina was in the gymnasium after her stomach properly digested the mix of glaze, jelly, and maple-frosted confectioneries. She did a few toe-touching stretches and put a leg backwards to ease up the muscles. Pressing the stopwatch app on her iPod, Asahina started sprinting forward across the gym, her sturdy feet carrying her through the polished hardwood while she ran against the competing seconds. Despite making a single lap around the gym in which weariness began to sprout, Asahina refused to stop there and kept going. Her heated breath became harder to sustain, but she kept running until two more laps came to be in her exercise. While catching her breath and gulping some water from a plastic bottle, Asahina stopped the running watch on her iPod Touch, looking at the times for all three laps._

_“Oh my God, that’s a new record!” Asahina gasped in amazement. “All of these times are three or five minutes shorter than last week’s!” Upon realizing something, Asahina went back to the list of bizarre entries on her device, looking at the one that foretold of her gym laps. “Just like my iPod said, but how?”_

_Asahina continued onto her other two planned exercises later on in the night: a quick bench press before taking a break and swimming at the pool. During her time in the workout room, Asahina noticed she’d pulled off the exact number of bench presses her iPod Touch said she would. When she'd taken a visit to the pool, Asahina felt more than ecstatic during her journey through the water. A simple front crawl in the beginning, however, wound up turning into an impressive butterfly stroke to the end. When she got out and dried herself off in the locker room, Asahina looked at her iPod Touch again, immediately freaked out at the familiar entry._

_“It happened again!” she gasped to herself, hand trembling as her iPod was gripped tighter. “This isn't some coincidence, but what the hell’s happening to my iPod?!”_

_Asahina composed herself, drying herself off and switching from the navy blue one piece bathing suit into her usual attire. She decided to put the spooky cerulean music device back in her pocket with the intention of ignoring its existence temporarily._

_In an attempt to clear her head, Asahina left Hope’s Peak Academy’s premises, making her way into downtown Osaka with the intention of taking care of some procrastinated errands. In the slightly chilly night, Asahina roamed the city of Osaka in search of a store containing her items. She passed the electronics shop with indifference, only for a single sentence made her stop and watch the news._

_“The Apparition Kingdom Police Force is still on the search for public terrorist Sakae Hiyama,” the news woman announced, showing a face Asahina remembered instantly. “Just recently, Hiyama-kun bombed a local middle school during its annual sports festival, killing hundreds of students and spectators. At the scene of the crime, Hiyama-kun left his license behind, so police are using it to search for the missing bomber. For more information, we’ll be back at nine tonight.”_

_Seeing that same shaggy face and chocolate brown eyes lit a fire of rage and hatred within Asahina. Her teeth started gritting with her creasing and tested up eyes, fist clenching with a thirst for retribution. The Swimmer could feel her face burning as her mind memorized the photo on the recorded license exactly, storming off through the city with frustration._

_“I swear to God if I ever see that face again, I’ll--!” Asahina growled, only to be cut off by the sound of hurried footsteps behind her._

_Asahina turned around, seeing someone in a dark trench coat and hat running towards her with a long clip point knife. Gasping, Asahina sprinted off in intense fear, going wherever instincts would take her. Finding a local apartment side in the alleyway, Asahina quickly made a risky leap for the distanced ladder, climbing up just as her murderous pursuer got close. The stranger looked up with a growl, clenching their blade angrily._

_“Ha! Good luck getting up here!” Asahina taunted, blowing a tongue raspberry at the scary person._

_Suddenly, Asahina heard a loud noise similar to a broken television’s static. She saw it came from the iPod Touch in her pocket, so she grabbed it and took a look. While surprised again at her device predicting her athletic escape, Asahina gasped at what was now below it._

_“‘20:16 [Fire Escape]: Asahina Aoi is fatally stabbed several times. DEAD END.’?!” Asahina gasped. “What the heck's a Dead End?!”_

_Below her feet, Asahina's potential murderer hooked a carabiner onto the bottommost ladder step, using a connected rope to pull their body up while the clip hook knife was clenched in their teeth by the handle. Nearly screaming, Asahina climbed up the fire escape as the stranger inched closer to her. Much to her misfortune, Asahina soon ran out of fire escape to climb, finding herself at the very edge. Just as her chaser took the knife out of their mouth, ready to do away with Asahina, the girl in question found a luckily open window. Jumping right through, Asahina ran through the dark room and out the door into the stairwell, her iPod making another interference noise. Taking refuge in a corner, Asahina checked her iPod Touch to see the update._

_“‘20:16 [Apartment]: Yet another successful climb-and-run made! Nice cardio and muscle work, Aoi!’,” Asahina read from her iPod Touch. “Hmm, now it says I’m gonna keep sprinting up until I get to the roof in like seven minutes.”_

_All of a sudden, in came the dark pursuer from the same room Asahina fled from, scaring her into running up the stairs when they came at her with the knife. Asahina followed the iPod message and kept sprinting, her stretched yet weary leg muscles fighting to survive._

_Asahina made it all the way up to the rooftop, where she shut the door behind her before running to the edge of the flat stone roof. Looking down, she felt a shortness of breath at the height she was standing at. Hoping for another miracle, Asahina took another look at her iPod’s messages from the future._

_“‘20:30 [Rooftop]: One successful vice-grip and flip over from the bottom takes care of the dirty nut job for good. That’ll teach him for attacking innocent people!’?” Asahina wondered. “Oh God, what's gonna happen?!”_

_“End of the line!” the masculine voice that was Asahina's chaser exclaimed, bursting through the door and reaching for his hat. “Now, be a good little girl and get over here…”_

_“Hell no! Just who the heck are you, anyways?!” Asahina demanded to know, putting the iPod Touch in her pocket._

_“Oh, we’ve met, don't worry.” The man cockily removed his hat, revealing a face that mortified Asahina. “I’m just your average everyday crook is all!”_

_“You're…!” Asahina gasped before her incensed mood grew angrier and vengeful. “Sakae Hiyama!”_

_“Ding ding, that's right! Too bad you won't live to turn me into the cops, little girl!”_

_Hiyama unsheathed his clip point knife and madly charged at the seething and huffing angry girl that was Asahina. Roaring lividly, Asahina charged back without any thought but vindictiveness and grabbed Hiyama’s arm with full force. Hiyama wound up dropping his knife; any attempts to get a hold of it were foiled when Asahina not only kicked it far aside, but gave the arm in her grasp a sharp twist, hearing a chilling **CRACK** sound mixed with Hiyama’s screams of pain in the process. Not in the right state of mind, Asahina brought her enemy closer to the apartment rooftop’s edge, where sweat poured down the side of his head when he looked at the far ground below._

_“There’s nowhere to turn for someone like you…” Asahina hissed coldly, the embers of anger singed deep into her retinas while gripping Hiyama tighter. “You **DIRTY BROTHER KILLER**!”_

_Without any thought after, a rage-blinded Asahina pushed Hiyama forward, causing the killer to start stumbling from an unstable balance. Before anything else could happen, Asahina pulled her sweatshirt sleeves securely over her hands, crouched down, and grabbed Hiyama by the shoes, flipping him over as he fell out of his shoes and towards the concrete with screams of pure terror. Asahina dropped the footwear on the rooftop’s surface when her sleeves returned to their proper position, the slight **CRUNCH** heard from below snapping her out of her slight stupor. She looked down below, gasping quietly at the blood spilling from Hiyama’s damaged and life-deprived corpse as people started gathering around it._

_“Oh… oh my God!” Asahina breathed to herself, feeling a bittersweet sickness knot in her stomach as she backed away from the edge. “I just murdered someone!”_

_With a bitten lower lip, Asahina left Hiyama’s shoes in hopes of them becoming a red herring. She bolted down the stairs in a panic, finding a door in the back and running out of it away from the crowd of citizens and siren-blaring vehicles. Without stopping, Asahina kept dashing along an alternative direction back to Hope’s Peak Academy, bittersweet thoughts of conflict racing through her mind._

_When she’d returned inside the school, Asahina tried catching a steady breath and lightly gripped her chest, walking towards the Dormitory Wing. Unfortunately, her plans to go to bed and allow herself to be alone went up in smoke when she bumped into Sakura, who was wearing comfortable training clothes in place of her large seifuku._

_“Asahina, there you are,” Sakura pointed out until she noticed the look of shock on her friend’s face. “What’s the matter? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”_

_“N-Nothing, Sakura-chan,” Asahina lied, still spaced out and traumatized as she tried walking past the SHSL Fighter. “I just went out to run some errands, and now… I’m just feeling really tired. Good night.”_

_“Your errands must have been hectic. I’ve never seen you this disoriented. What happened?”_

_“Nothing happened, Sakura! I’m just exhausted from everything, and I need to get some rest! Good night, okay?!”_

_Without letting Sakura say anything else, Asahina bolted past her and ran into her room, shutting the door tightly before sprawling herself out on the bed. The Swimmer fought back her strong urge to vomit, wishy-washy consternation consuming her stomach. Removing the mysterious iPod Touch from her pocket, Asahina took one last look at the predictions automatically inscribed before they came true, laying it flat on her nightstand before forcing herself to fall into a deep sleep in hopes she’d awaken from some horrible nightmare._

_Little did she know then, however, that things would only be taken to further extremes than she thought._

_When Asahina had finally slept soundly that night, she remembered seeing a familiar, yet ominous face in a tattered black hooded cloak over his otherwise mostly bare body. Those same blood moon eyes under wispy long locks of black, she’d remembered the name of someone she once perceived to be her imagination._

_“Hey, it’s you again!” Asahina pointed out. “Umm, sorry, what did you tell me to call you?”_

_“Ugh… Izuru Kamukura,” Kamukura answered, the giant teenaged God looking down at the confused Swimmer. “You’d better remember that, because I’m not repeating myself again.”_

_“Izuru Ka-mu-ku-ra…” Asahina memorized, pretending to scribble the name into her palm before nodding. “Okay! So, Kamukura, what are you doing in my dreams again?”_

_“I’m only here for one reason, Asahina. Look at that stupid blue iPod Touch of yours.”_

_“My iPod? But I didn’t…”_

_Much to Asahina’s shock, the cerulean iPod Touch was right in her jean shorts pocket; touch screen, strange entries, and all. She looked at her music device as if she’d never seen it before in her life, asking Kamukura how it got in her pocket again. Unfortunately, Kamukura ignored the question he saw unfit for a proper answer._

_“Okay, you see that iPod?” Kamukura asked rhetorically. “Don’t let that thing break. From now on, it’s your life, Asahina.”_

_“Look, Kamukura, I love having music play with me wherever I go, but don’t you think that’s kind of a stretch?”_

_“No, I mean it’s literally your life. Such as with all Future Diaries, if that thing gets destroyed in any way, so do you.”_

_“Future… Diary? What the heck are you talking about?”_

_Rolling his crimson eyes, Kamukura rested his cheek in his palm, boredly explaining to Asahina about the Survival Game. Every last rule, limitation, and instruction surprised the smaller female greatly, especially when Kamukura had said the words “Dead End” and “winner takes my place as God”._

_“Me, a God?” Asahina wondered before taking back any thoughts. “No! I can’t just go killing people left and right! That’s horrible!”_

_“Didn’t seem to stop you from faking your brother’s killer’s suicide, now did it?” Kamukura asked with a scoff. “If you can manage that, then you’ll do fine.”_

_“B-But, that was--”_

_“--Don’t care, there’s no bailing in the Survival Game. It’s either kill and win, or be killed and lose. Choose your poison.”_

_Asahina was still more than apprehensive. As if her inner conscience was anxious from her recent secret crime alone, this new mandatory task she’d just been forced into was even more difficult to swallow. However, Asahina would spawn a whole new consideration at Kamukura’s next words, the God himself growing weary of the Swimmer’s indecisiveness._

_“The prize is to become a God or Goddess,” Kamukura repeated. “If you win the Survival Game and earn my throne, then you can have almost anything your little heart desires.”_

_“Anything? Like what?” Asahina asked._

_“Gee, I dunno. Isn’t there someone you wish you still had with you or something? Like say… that brother of yours?”_

_“Y-Yuta?! Wait, a Goddess can do anything… so I can bring him back! I can have my Yutie alive again!”_

_“Uhh, actually, there’s a little--”_

_“--Kamukura, I accept! After all, Gods can probably bring people back from the dead, so I’ll just win and make it so nothing ever happened! Not only that… but my baby brother will be safe and sound…”_

_“Asahina, if you’d stop running your mouth for two seconds--”_

_“--Say no more! C-Count… count me in!”_

_“Ugh, whatever. One more thing, it's important to hide your identity from the other Diary Holders, so I’m gonna give you a rank. From now on, you are the Third, got it?”_

_“‘Third’?” Asahina wondered. “Well, I guess three’s a magic number. I’ll take it, Kamukura! Just you wait; when I’m the new Goddess, I’m gonna make everything the way it should be!”_

_“I’m sooo proud of you,” Kamukura scoffed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Good luck out there, Third. You're gonna need it.” Waving his hand, Kamukura sent Aoi back to the mortal realm, her mind blanking out for a split second._

* * *

By the time Asahina fully snapped back to reality, she was standing right outside Hope’s Peak Academy. The time on her Future Diary read “20:55”, convincing Asahina to go back in and go about her night.

As she walked the halls populated with a few students, Asahina looked at her iPod Touch again, reading some old entries to herself and thinking of her goal in the Survival Game. Not only that, but the recent meeting in the Cathedral Of Causality shook her greatly.

“My Fitness Diary is probably weaker compared to whatever ones Fifth and Sixth have,” Asahina said to herself, “but that doesn't mean I'm gonna back down now! Whoever those two are, they're going down!”

The Fitness Diary gripped in her palm, Asahina roamed the halls with the intention of laying low for then. Up ahead, she saw Ishimaru and Mukuro happily conversing with each other, immediately greeting them with a joyous wave and call.

“Good evening, Asahina-kun!” Ishimaru greeted back in a friendly tone for once.

“Oh, you feeling better, Ishimaru?” Asahina asked.

“I wouldn't say completely, but I definitely will! In fact, I’ll have made a permanent recovery!”

“Huh?”

“Erm, don't think too much on it, Asahina-san,” Mukuro insisted. “Now, Kiyotaka and I must be going. We have plans together for the night.”

“Oooh, do you~?” Asahina teased, giving her brows a wiggle. “You two play nice now, ‘k?”

“What?!” Ishimaru and Mukuro sputtered, looking at each other with expressions equally surprised.

Asahina giggled and started making her leave. What stopped her, however, was the shocking sound of two Future Diaries updating. Asahina checked her own Fitness Diary, reading off two new predictions of “21:09 [Girls’ Locker Room]: Chased down and quickly cornered Fifth in a fantastic aerobic exercise! Kudos to me all the way!” and “21:14 [Pool Room]: Did a nimble dodge of Sixth's sword attacks and stayed alive. Frightening, yet impressive of me!”. The entry at the bottom read, much to Asahina's exacerbated horror, "21:35 [Pool Room]: Asahina Aoi is killed by Ishimaru Kiyotaka. DEAD END". Add insult to injury, Asahina turned around and caught Ishimaru checking his phone due to the sound it made. Asahina quickly put her Fitness Diary in her pocket, walking away from Ishimaru and Mukuro with squinting eyes of slight worry.

“Looks like I just found our little Game leaders,” Asahina pondered. “If I don't strike soon, I’m cooked!” A mischievous grin came to her face when an idea sprouted within her mind. “And I know juuust the lucky Soldier to start with,” Asahina laughed, looking right at Mukuro until she was out of sight.

Asahina started walking ahead, looking at what her Fitness Diary commanded her to do next. With every intention to succeed, Asahina put the cerulean iPod Touch away, her new plan coming right into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Godly Alignment: Asahina Aoi = Poseidon/Neptune (hello? SHSL Swimmer anyone?). I've read so many times that no one thought or wanted to believe Aoi's a DH, but man are you guys in for a delightful surprise~! ♥ I've got a certain system I used when choosing the Diary Holders, but if I tell you what it is, you might figure out the last two DH's before they debut. If you can figure out my pattern, then MAJOR props! Just don't give away anything, okay?


	26. Night 45 Part 2: A Deceptive Secret's Inception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses are... good!:
> 
> ThePersonOfNothing: It's a Survival Game where you're supposed to kill people to become God(dess). Of course she's going to come off as evil. I'm going to assume you've never seen Mirai Nikki, so I'll let you off easy. Just do a little research on the show/manga this AU fic is based on.
> 
> Skittlethrill: If ya wanna think that~ I do enjoy it when people guess the Diary Holders! Even when they may or mayn't be correct.
> 
> Zeke: Isn't it always the perky ones that seem the most suspicious? I mean, look at Eighth in the original Mirai Nikki. Does she REALLY look like someone who'd be roped into a Survival Game. You really shouldn't go based on looks at all. If you do, you'll wind up being dead wrong.
> 
> LadyLucyfer: I was only recently introduced to the wonders of Undertale (still need to befriend a certain robo super model), but it's still a good game! Idk, when Aoi said it in my head, it sounded more serious.
> 
> SHSL Guest: Don't stress about it! I'm still gonna edit your response when I see it (or respond next time; either or)! Also, do you mean to say "nature" instead of "nation"? Because you're gonna see lots of sads in this fic (Mirai Nikki & DR; do the math).

Confident about her encounter with Fifth, Asahina made a quick stop at the cafeteria. This time, rather than exploring the fridge or pantry for anything to satisfy her hunger, she diverted her attention directly at the arrangement of kitchen knives hanging on the wall. Skimming a finger through the rack, Asahina equipped the biggest chef’s knife, grabbed a thick cloth, and used it as a cushion for her weapon’s sharp blade. Stuffing the stab-proofed knife in the pocket not carrying her Fitness Diary, Asahina walked out, making her way towards the second floor.

Before she could hope to leave the kitchen, Asahina accidentally made bodily contact with Sakura, who looked down at the Swimmer with a concerned look.

“Hello, Asahina,” Sakura greeted. “Were you grabbing a snack?”

“Y-Yeah, exactly!” Asahina lied, covering the knife with her arm. “But, now I'm all full, so I ought to get going!”

“How are you holding up? You told me you were going to visit your brother today, so I want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m okay, Sakura-chan. Thanks for asking!” Asahina sprung another idea in her head, determined to keep Sakura out of things. “I was about to head upstairs for a little swim with Ikusaba-chan. Do you mind giving her a little refresher for me in case she forgets? We’ve been planning this for a while and it’d be a shame if she didn't come!”

“Anything for you, Asahina. Ikusaba won't forget.” Before Asahina could leave after a hurried goodbye, Sakura stopped her with little effort. “Promise me you'll be well, okay?”

“Cross it!” Asahina vowed, drawing an “X” over her heart with her thumb. “Sakura-chan, trust me. When you see me tomorrow, everything will start to get better for sure! Look forward to it!”

“Asahina, wait, I--” Sakura tried saying, only for her friend to leave without letting her finish.

Still concealing the knife in her pocket, Asahina searched for the staircase that would lead up to the Swimmer’s favorite room in Hope’s Peak Academy. When no one was apparently in sight, Asahina took the knife from her pocket, gripping the handle carefully. She nearly dropped the utensil when she heard a nearby gasp, coming from a frightened Sayaka Maizono.

“Asahina-san, why do you have a knife?” Sayaka asked with concern. “That belongs downstairs!”

“What, this old thing?” Asahina wondered, looking at her knife like a new treasure. “Maizono-chan, I’m just taking this up to the cooking classroom. They were short on a certain knife, so I thought I’d take the initiative for them.”

“Oh! That's a relief. Because someone could really get hurt if you don’t use that correctly. See you later, Asahina-san!”

Buying the fib, Sayaka left the SHSL Swimmer alone to carry out her evening. Watching the Idol leave, Asahina kept walking towards the pool room, hiding the knife again to start carrying out her plan the closer she got to it.

* * *

On the first floor, Mukuro walked around with a paranoid Ishimaru. The latter’s Friendship Diary received a new entry only minutes prior, saying “21:11: Mukuro has been trapped by Third and has no room to escape the attack. As long as air fills my lungs, I refuse to allow anyone to harm Mukuro!”. Both were discussing a possible game plan to strike while wondering who Third could be, making the guess that Third was among the students at Hope’s Peak Academy.

“Is it someone from our class?” Ishimaru wondered.

“It’s certainly possible,” Mukuro stated. “Though who could it be?”

“Whoever it is, it’s absolutely despicable!” Ishimaru growled, clenching his fist with irritation. “One of our classmates, a traitor! Regardless of their identity, we will get rid of them, correct?”

“Yes. If we show mercy, they might take advantage of it and do us in instead. We cannot let that happen.”

“And allow it we won’t! We’re a team, Muki!”

Mukuro smiled at Ishimaru’s use of her personal nickname, her heart skipping a beat or two from being giddy. Focusing on the Tactics Diary in her shirt pocket, Mukuro got serious again, mentally preparing herself for anything that would lie ahead. Before anything else could be done between Ishimaru and Mukuro, the duo were approached by Sakura, whose concern was more than evident in her otherwise frightening pale blue eyes.

“Good evening… Oogami-kun,” Ishimaru hesitated, squinting and scanning Sakura for any suspicious activity, simultaneously scared of the thought of her being the Third Diary Holder. “What have you been up to lately?”

“Keeping my prowess steady,” Sakura answered calmly. “But, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because Asahina wanted me to remind Ikusaba of their evening endeavor.”

“Endeavor? Mukuro, did you have plans with Asahina-kun tonight?” Ishimaru asked Mukuro quietly, only to receive a negative head shake from the Soldier in question.

“Ah, so you did forget,” Sakura pointed out. “You’d better get going, Ikusaba.” Sakura began walking away until she stopped herself, needing to get extra words out of her system. “Oh, and would either of you mind doing me a favor?”

“What is it, Oogami-san?” Mukuro asked.

“Keep an eye on Asahina,” Sakura requested with worry. “She’s been acting strange as of late, likely on account of her brother. Make sure she… doesn’t do anything risky, okay? I’m deeply concerned for her.”

“You have our word,” Ishimaru and Mukuro promised.

“Thank you. And don’t take this as a sign of fragility, but Asahina means the world to me. I just don’t know what I’d do if something horrible were to become of her.”

Sakura left without saying anything else, disappearing from sight soon after. Ishimaru and Mukuro decided for the time being that the SHSL Fighter was clean of suspicion, the latter heading where the staircase was to keep her primary word to Sakura. Ishimaru walked at a fair distance to keep an eye on Mukuro, staying in her range out of his own concern for her. Within seconds, Mukuro was right in front of the girls’ locker rooms, Ishimaru staying away from it.

“If anything happens, my Diary will keep tabs on it!” Ishimaru declared. “While you take care of your task with Asahina-kun, I’m going to keep myself armed in case we encounter Third.”

“Okay, hurry back and be careful,” Mukuro warned.

“You too, Mukuro. And worry not, I shall be quick!”

So as not to violate school rules, Ishimaru sped up his walking speed to no faster than a slow jog towards the staircase, his destination being the fifth floor of the school. Mukuro went through her appointed door, arriving at the girls’ locker rooms connected to the pool room. Deep within the room was Asahina, who had both arms behind her back and slanted eyes targeted at Mukuro.

“How’s it going, Ikusaba-chan?” she asked with feigned cheerfulness. “Glad you could finally make it.”

“What’s this all about, Asahina-san?” Mukuro questioned, stepping a little closer to Asahina. “We didn’t make plans for tonight. If nothing important is requested of me, then I shall be making my leave.”

“Don’t worry, it’s pretty important! I just wanted to have a little chat. You know, girl to girl?”

“Umm, sure. I’m not adequately trained in this sort of conversation, though. What would you like to talk about, Asahina-san?”

Asahina tapped a finger to her lip a few times, releasing some innocent “hmm”s from her nostrils. She wandered all around the locker room, swinging the knife behind her back while keeping it hidden from Mukuro. Mukuro was all the more suspicious of Asahina, keeping a hand close to her Fenrir knife in case of any sudden actions. The Swimmer crept closer, examining Mukuro with hawk-like ocean blue eyes when a fake conversation topic sprang up.

“I just thought we’d have a friendly chat!” Asahina chirped. “I’ve heard some pretty funny things around school, and I wanted to know what you think!”

“O… okay. Why wouldn’t you share this with Oogami-san? Are you two not close?”

“Are you kidding me? Sakura-chan and I are as close as can be! In fact, we’ve already talked about it, so I wanted to share it with you, Ikusaba-chan.”

“What have you heard exactly, Asahina-san? I’m really not in the mood for gossip.”

“Just some funny rumors is all. Word on the street is someone here’s been having some pre-tty extreme ‘meetups’, if you know what I mean! Something about her taking a train all the way up to Shisuta Town?”

“Oh, right. I think I’ve heard that too. What was the girl’s name again? Koko… something?”

“Yeah, it was along those lines. I don’t think it’s all that true since this school isn’t the most reliable.”

“Anything else you’ve heard lately?”

“Just some other funny stuff! Like, it might have been Kuwata and Hagakure who stole Togami’s glasses this morning, or that Fukawa might be crushing on someone besides the rich lemon himself, or even--” Asahina stopped, her eyes looking down at the black flip cell phone in Mukuro’s shirt pocket, feigning amazement. “Oh! Did you get a new phone?” Asahina tried making a grab for it, but Mukuro immediately stepped back and kept her Tactics Diary in her hand.

“With all due respect, Asahina-san, don’t touch my phone,” Mukuro told her. “You don’t have my permission to do so.”

“Hmm, we’ll just hafta see, Ikusaba-chan. Or maybe, you want me to call you something else? Like a preferred pseudonym?”

Mukuro raised an eyebrow until her Tactics Diary sounded off another update on the future soon ahead. She quickly opened it, looking at the first entry of “21:07: Third charges at me with a chef’s knife from the kitchen. Block using your own blade and go in for an abdominal kick”. When she turned back to Asahina, the other blue-eyed girl started running at her with her revealed chef’s knife, Mukuro instinctively grabbing her Fenrir blade to block the attack.

“So, it really is you!” Asahina pointed out, grinning with malice in her gaze. “Mukuro Ikusaba, the Fifth Diary Holder!”

“Likewise, I’m about to take out the Third!” Mukuro added, giving Asahina a harsh kick to the stomach before running off to a less crowded area of the locker room.

Although in pain from the kick, Asahina did as her Fitness Diary foretold and gave chase to Mukuro, the freckled girl deflecting attacks thrown at her while fleeing. But as expected from a Diary prediction, Asahina chased Mukuro into a corner near the extra door, cornering her until there was nowhere to run.

“Let’s end this!” Asahina exclaimed, raising her chef’s knife and making a swing at Mukuro, who flung herself sideways to evade it while looking at the next prediction on her Tactics Diary describing the success of the dodge.

“The only ‘end’ coming soon is yours, Third,” Mukuro hissed with ice in her voice, thrusting her knife into Asahina’s cheek and leaving a painful gash.

“GAAUGH!” The SHSL Swimmer cried, gripping her cheek while coming at Mukuro with the knife in her other hand.

Not taking any eyes off the Tactics Diary screen, Mukuro ducked low at the straight thrust from Asahina, giving her opponent a kick to the side. Asahina landed on her side where the Fitness Diary wasn’t, accidentally dropping her knife while it skidded across the locker room. Asahina took the Fitness Diary out of her hand, gripping the iPod Touch while Mukuro pointed her Fenrir blade at the girl’s face.

“This was almost too easy,” Mukuro pointed out with no trace of emotion in her tone, raising the knife high. “Shame you have to meet such an early Dead End, Third.”

Saying nothing else, Mukuro brought her hand down in a swift motion. However, due to Asahina rolling out of the way with the Fitness Diary safe in her hand, the jagged Fenrir knife only slashed the top of Asahina’s ear. While a trail of blood ran down Asahina’s cheek, she grabbed her borrowed chef’s knife again and slashed out at Mukuro, the Soldier just barely evading the attack while her shirt took a tear instead. Thinking fast, Asahina charged forward and gave Mukuro a punch to the side of her face, sending the Soldier backwards onto the floor while holding onto her cheek.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that if you wanna kill me, Fifth!” Asahina taunted, stomping a foot down on Mukuro’s hand when she tried getting up. “And now, I’m about to get further in the Survival Game than the rest of you!”

Before she could take anymore action with her chef’s knife, in came Ishimaru with a borrowed weapon of his own in the form of a katana from the upstairs dojo. His scarlet, target-shaped eyes were creased downwards, yet still burning with the intent to protect his loved one. Without batting an eyelash, Ishimaru ran at Asahina and pierced the sharp katana past Asahina’s arm, tearing her jacket sleeve and a few blood vessels in her arm’s upper skin layer. This made a pained Asahina scream and back away from Mukuro in favor of blocking the blood flow coming from her new gash.

“Mukuro, are you alright?” Ishimaru asked, helping Mukuro up with a grabbed hand.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Mukuro answered. “You couldn’t have picked a better time to arrive.”

“I have my Friendship Diary to thank for that. Because of it, I’ll always know if you’re in danger!”

Mukuro smiled at Ishimaru, but then turned a cold face back to Asahina, who stopped gripping her arm and decided to slowly walk towards her opponent duo with the knife in her hand. She took a look at the Fitness Diary, looking at the prediction that she’d evade Ishimaru’s future blade attacks, despite her confusion from why the first wasn’t dodged. Shrugging it off, she put the Fitness Diary back and raised her knife in defense, glaring at her traitors of classmates.

“My Fitness Diary…” Asahina breathed, “Every last athletic accomplishment… it’s gonna help me kill you both!” She charged at Ishimaru with the knife, only for him to flawlessly knock the small blade out of her hand until it landed blade-first into the carpet.

“Apparently not your failures, it seems,” Ishimaru pointed out, looking at Asahina with disgust and walking closer armed with the katana. “So, there’s no telling when you’ll mess up. Is there, Third?”

Not letting Asahina think of answering, Ishimaru gripped the sword handle with both hands and brought the blade downwards, Asahina nimbly evading his attacks. Ishimaru chased Asahina throughout the locker room, swinging and piercing the blade forward to try and take out the Third Diary Holder he no longer felt anything amiable towards. Mukuro was close behind, staying out of Asahina’s sight to help while recovering energy lost from earlier.

The three made it to the actual pool room, the vast rectangular tub of chlorine-tainted water sitting idly and minding its own business right in the dead center. On the sidelines, Asahina still forced herself to avoid getting cut by Ishimaru and his long blade, turning and shifting her body left and right away from each swing, and thrust. With one more arm swing from Ishimaru, the blade just barely grazed Asahina’s bouncy ponytail, severing a few strands at the top while its wearer remained safe.

“We’re equally matched, Sixth!” Asahina shouted. “I can keep this up aaall night!”

“Oh really? Because I have no intention of tarnishing my survival streak all because of another pesky Diary Holder!” Ishimaru growled, lashing at Asahina with the katana again, which went avoided once more.

Asahina made a retaliation, giving Ishimaru a strong kick to the side of his mouth. He sustained damage, blood pouring out of his oral hole with no mercy. The SHSL Hall Monitor, however, endured his pain for the sake of ending Asahina's life. While dodging a few punches from his adversary, Ishimaru's Friendship Diary picked up on a call from Mukuro, answered on speaker with a button press from his thumb.

“Third's gonna give a sweep kick in five seconds! Get out of the way!” Mukuro called from the phone, reading off many predictions about Ishimaru's duel from her Tactics Diary.

“Okay!” Ishimaru confirmed, jumping away from Asahina's failed sweep kick to the feet. “What else, Mukuro?”

“Now, she's going for an uppercut followed by a chokehold grab! Duck left from her fist and run past her while staying down!”

Ishimaru did just that, ducking away from Asahina's uppercut and running past her while closer to the floor. From Mukuro's next instruction based off the prediction entry “21:17: Third runs at Kiyotaka with an intention to give him another punch to the stomach. He must grab her by the arm and flip her right over in a judo toss.”. Ishimaru did as he was told, snatching Asahina's arm and flipping her over like a flapjack, her back making contact with the floor.

From nearby, Asahina picked up on Mukuro's voice and followed the sound’s path. Forcing herself up, she did a hunched run over to the corner behind a wall, spotting Mukuro looking at her many combat entries listed on her phone. Mukuro saw a last minute prediction stating “21:18: Third comes right at me in a charge. Dodge backwards and take action by physically attacking her.”, but it was too late to do anything about it. Before she knew it, Asahina had struck Mukuro in the back of her head with her leg, hitting a vital spot that made the girl’s eyes droop from a sudden loss of energy until consciousness was lost.

Ishimaru caught this on his seconds-updated Friendship Diary, springing up with a scabbard-covered katana to run towards Asahina, who had little trouble in dragging the unconscious Mukuro with the Soldier’s Tactics Diary in her other hand. Asahina looked down at Mukuro's form for a second, slinging her over her shoulder with malicious intent once close enough to the pool.

“Bon voyage, Fifth!” Asahina proclaimed, flipping Mukuro forward. “And your little boyfriend’s gonna join you soon too!”

“Mukuro!” Ishimaru gasped, trying in a futile attempt to grab the sinking Mukuro's hand, only for her to fall lower into the deep end.

“Nothing you can do about her now, Sixth!” Asahina taunted while standing a few feet away from the pool, holding the Tactics Diary high with two hands on each end. “Once I kill her, your death’s gonna help get me my brother back!”

“No, it won't!” Ishimaru retorted, running over to Asahina and striking her full force in her injured back with the covered sword, hearing a slight crack come from it.

“AUGH!” was all Asahina could get out as she fell to the ground unable to move from her broken back while squirming on the ground. “That's not fair!”

Ishimaru grabbed Mukuro's intact Tactics Diary from the floor after Asahina dropped it, ignoring Asahina entirely for the drowning Mukuro still below the water’s surface. Going to the pool’s other side far away from Asahina, Ishimaru put both the Friendship and Tactics Diaries on the bleachers, diving into the water after Mukuro without batting an eyelash. Because of the immense back injury he’d dealt to Asahina, her moving to successfully get the phones was practically impossible.

 _“Mukuro, hang in there!”_ Ishimaru thought, swimming to the bottom and grabbing the unconscious ex-mercenary. _“I hope I’m not too late!”_

Ishimaru came back to the surface in seconds, rolling the comatose Mukuro's form onto land with her back against the floor. He leaned his ear against Mukuro’s chest, not moving until he’d felt a reassuring heartbeat against shallow breaths. Once certain Mukuro was still among the living, Ishimaru turned to the struggling Asahina with a fierce and dark gaze. He picked up his own Friendship Diary and, once it was back in his pocket, unsheathed the katana from its scabbard and walked to the other side of the pool to where Asahina was trying to get away. Because the Swimmer was still in too much pain for comfortable movement to be possible, Ishimaru found himself standing right above Asahina, his scarlet eyes lacking any drop of mercy.

“You lose, Third,” Ishimaru hissed, pointing the katana to the protruding iPod Touch in Asahina’s pocket.

“...You’re right, Sixth,” Asahina sighed, accepting her grim fate. “I can’t move or run away with my Fitness Diary, so you might as well just go ahead and off me.” Tears welled up in Asahina’s blue eyes, falling to the side with genuine sniffles of grief. “How stupid was I… to think I could go back in time to save Yuta! A-At least, at least I’ll get to see him again, but not in the way I wanted…”

“If you’d like, I could add you to the list of people to resurrect if I become God in Mukuro’s stead.”

“Sixth, don’t you get it?! None of your dead loved ones can come back to life! _Ever_!”

Ishimaru paused, nearly dropping the katana in shock at Asahina’s words. Sure, he’d heard the outrageous news, but the parts of his mind still in grieving for his father and longtime friends considered it untrue. Because of it, Ishimaru’s eyebrows creased downwards, disgusted and angry at what Asahina dared to tell him. He started moving the katana towards Asahina’s Future Diary, but she had just enough strength to push it away in order to speak more.

“Dirty lies won’t make me spare you, Third,” Ishimaru growled, trying to get the sword back in his control.

“I’m not lying to you, Sixth! I talked to Kamukura himself during the last meeting! He… he even showed me my brother’s corpse just to rub it in…”

“All lies! Why should I believe you?!”

“You broke my back, beat me, and you’re about to kill me when I can’t do anything about it. Do I really have any reason to lie to trick you right now?”

Gritting his teeth, Ishimaru tried moving the sword again. Shockingly, he found himself unable to do so. When he realized the logic in Asahina’s reasoning, his eyes widened with as much shock. Every promise, every vow to erase horrible memories of others’ deaths… now obsolete and impossible. Ishimaru felt his heart shatter to pieces while his tear ducts got to work on showing it, the eyes they intended to slide past blinking and allowing their descent.

“My father… my friends!” Ishimaru choked, “They really can’t come back?”

“Not in the way you wanted, no,” Asahina sighed, throwing more honest salt into Ishimaru’s wounds. “I guess even a God can’t bring the soul back to the body once it’s gone.”

“Wait!” Ishimaru looked at the unconscious Mukuro, recalling her own promise of her potential godhood. “Mukuro, she promised that boy in her past! Oh, she’ll be so heartbroken…!”

“Then she might as well be making a new promise. There’s no way that special boy of hers can come back to life. Only a matter of time until she finds out.”

Ishimaru felt himself trembling, unable to digest the shock and unbearable truth now bestowed unto him. Gripping the katana tighter, he raised it both hands in a shout of pain that was the word “NO!”, quickly jabbing it downwards through Asahina’s upper thigh and Fitness Diary using full force. Asahina gave a loud yell of agony when the blade was removed, blood soaking her iPod Touch and jean shorts while running down her ankle like a rushing river. Now her own body was shaking with pain, preparing itself for the eventual fate that become of all with destroyed Future Diaries.

“Mukuro must never find out about this,” Ishimaru told the languishing Asahina, glancing right back at Mukuro again. “I love her far too much to destroy her hopes like that. And what kind of person would I be to let down the only remaining person who matters to me?”

“Well, here’s my personal advice, Ishimaru…” Asahina breathed in a contorted voice, her body glitching and twisting to her left. “Don’t let her keep going on a wishful thought. If you really loved her… you’d tell her the truth…”

Leaving behind a broken Fitness Diary in a puddle of shed blood, Asahina’s body swirled into a vortex, fading away into nothing within seconds. Dropping the katana for good, Ishimaru tried to control his suffocated breaths, tears flowing from his eyes alongside mucus from his ruddy and blood clogged face. He looked up again, seeing Mukuro still wasn’t moving or conscious. Wiping his face using the sleeve of his gakuran, Ishimaru went to her side, kneeling down beside her shallow chest. He used both hands to press down where the lungs and heart were, trying to get them stimulated and expel the excess water in Mukuro’s respiratory organs. When she only trembled in her comatose state, Ishimaru took a deep breath and put his lips to Mukuro’s, exhaling new air down her windpipe a few good times until she started coughing up chlorinated pool water. More coughs and gushes of water came from Mukuro until she opened her eyes to a shell-shocked and grief-stricken Ishimaru, who was still internally relieved that Mukuro was truly alive.

“Kiyotaka, are you alright?” Mukuro asked out of concern, looking around the otherwise empty pool room. “What happened? Is Third--”

“--No. I killed her, don’t worry,” Ishimaru said in a low tone, helping Mukuro off the ground and carrying the girl like a human crutch before walking out of the pool room.

“Good work, Taka. But, what’s the matter? You’re awfully dazed.”

“I’m just exhausted, Muki. It’s almost ten, so why don’t we get going to bed? We’ve both had a long night.”

Mukuro nodded in agreement, helping Ishimaru carry her out by adding some footing of her own. With another Diary Holder dead, both knew the Survival Game would be coming to a close soon with only two more opponents to do in besides themselves. While Mukuro still had her hope of resurrection upon becoming a Goddess, Ishimaru felt sick to his stomach when the shocking revelation from earlier haunted the recesses of his mind. He looked at the equally weary Mukuro, turning away from her with shame at the secret he forced himself to keep for her well-being.

* * *

Simultaneously in the Cathedral Of Causality, the large God that was Kamukura sat in his throne, watching Asahina’s demise playback on his screen. He soon switched it off, quickly growing bored with it. At that moment, Komaeda materialized in a flurry of pixels. Kamukura took one look at the smiling Komaeda, turning away with shame as if looking in a mirror of a dark past. When Komaeda himself looked up, he noticed Kamukura’s twisted face right away, concern taking over him when he stopped at a certain distance.

“Izuru-sama, is everything alright?” Komaeda asked, only to receive a shady look from Kamukura.

“Just peachy, Nag-- Komaeda,” Kamukura stopped himself, the given name no longer sounding proper for the luck-cursed Observer. “Status report?”

“Well, Tenth and Twelfth have begun a search for Fifth and Sixth,” Komaeda reported. “They seem to be using their Diaries with responsibility.”

“Okay, anything that I’d remotely care about?”

“Aside from them staying at a hotel not too far from Hope’s Peak Academy and enjoying their very presences, no. But, Izuru-sama? May I ask what’s troubling you?”

Kamukura sighed, shrouding himself in darkness and moving down from his throne to where Komaeda stood, now matching him equally in size. His blood red eyes gave Komaeda a remarkably dark glare, as if piercing the artificial teenager with resentment and disgust. Komaeda backed away a few steps, only for Kamukura to look down and refuse him eye contact without saying much else.

“Have I done something wrong again?” Komaeda asked with worry, stepping a little closer to the God and ignoring his discomfort. “T’is expected of someone with scarce worth like me, of course, but I don’t want you feeling hopeless from my apparent mess-up. Tell me what I’ve done, my Lord.”

“Why bother?” Izuru hissed, his eyes digging deeper into his face. “You wouldn’t understand anyways.”

“What’s there to not understand, Izuru-sama? I’m more loyal to you than Second, so I could at least bring myself to listen to your important words. Now, tell me what’s troubling you. As your humble Observer, I will heed only what you say.”

“...Is that so?” Kamukura's voice started sinking lower into a growl of frustration, slowly taking him from his usual lack of emotion.

“That it is, my Lord. You’ve given me existence, and for that I’m not only grateful, but I swear my affection and allegiance to only you. And if you ask me, that feeling will never go away.”

Those words had done it. Kamukura's eyes widened when he felt something snap inside, the smiling Komaeda oblivious to his master’s internal struggle. Kamukura started gritting his teeth, typical apathy now completely possessed by a burning psychological discomfort. He tried staying in control of himself, but that plan was thwarted by Komaeda going over and pulling the young God into a comforting embrace.

Within seconds, Komaeda would realize that was his biggest mistake ever. Before he knew it, Kamukura had shoved him away with a yell of surprising anger. One look at the usually calm red eyes shocked Komaeda, who could only stand and watch Kamukura huff with rage and let everything he’d been holding back out.

“You’ve got some nerve, Komaeda…” Izuru snarled, not lifting his glare for a second. “You’ve got some _real nerve_ to do this to me!”

“I don't understand!” Komaeda responded, sickly jade eyes wide with fear. “I only said I’m thankful for the existence you’ve given me--”

“--Your existence is the problem, you deranged moron! Every time I so much as look at you, it makes me sick because I regret so many things about you!”

“Wh-What? Izuru-sama, what are you trying to say? Is my existence really that horrid that it makes you angry?”

“Ha… ha-ha… angry?” Kamukura repeated, the word hardly satisfying as a tortured smile stretched his lips for the first time, looking at Komaeda with darkened eyes. “Komaeda, Komaeda, Komaeda… angry doesn’t begin to describe how I feel about you! It’s been so damn long since I’ve felt anything, but lemme tell you just what looking at you makes me feel.” Kamukura took slow steps closer to Komaeda, who started backing away at the same slow pace. “I’m _furious_ , I am _disgusted_ , I’m in so much pain! But most of all, Komaeda, I’m beyond _GUILTY_!”

“I’m…” Komaeda fished for words to say, though Kamukura’s newly released anger made it difficult. “...I’m sorry, Izuru-sama.”

“You’re sorry? You’re SORRY?! No, no no. If anyone’s sorry, it’s me! I was so stupid, completely desperate enough to think you could replace him! But no, I just couldn’t handle the thought of the only Nagito Komaeda in the universe being gone for good! All because of me!”

“I still don’t understand. Aren’t I Nagito Komaeda, my Lord? Isn’t that the name you gave me? There’s no one else with that name, Izuru-sama. ...Right?”

“Oh Me, you really are the most ignorant thing I’ve ever made. Do you honestly think you’ll ever replace Nagi? Well, news flash for you, ‘Komaeda’, you _won’t_. You never will. And I was so damn stupid to think I could use you to fix my mistake.”

Komaeda’s lower lip trembled, still shocked by Kamukura’s words. Although his master’s resent and hatred remained unrequited, Komaeda gripped his head while the thoughts within started swirling downwards into a maelstrom of uncertainty. One more time did he look at Kamukura, who still glared at the imposter with pure, unadulterated loathing. Komaeda wasn’t too sure what hurt more: the fact that his one and only master he’d so devoted his loyalty and love to, or the fact that said master had just informed him his existence was based on another and therefore not genuine. Taking in a few chopped breaths, Komaeda bowed his upper half at Kamukura, turning away from him with shame.

“I still apologize for my wrongdoing, Master,” Komaeda said, glancing at the mellowing Kamukura once with sadness. “My loyalty still rests in only you, but if so much as seeing me hurts you, then I won’t subject you to the despair of having to look at my abhorrent self.”

Kamukura said nothing, only clenching his fist with tightly-shut eyes. The God snapped again at Komaeda, hissing at him to “get out” while pointing a finger past Komaeda. Nodding once, the Observer walked away from the throne room, leaving behind a beyond-guilty Kamukura. Within his gut, Kamukura still felt twisting feelings that disgusted him, something else inside taking control and making him reach a hand out to the departing Komaeda. His own lower lip shook, an old voice taking over and having him take a few steps forward with remorse.

“Nagito… wait…” Kamukura breathed, his eyes looking on guiltily as Komaeda left the room, his master’s quiet words remaining unheard. “Please come back…”

Clasping the open hand into a fist, Kamukura fell to the floor with his head bowed in the same direction. He grabbed the flat floor, a few rueful tears leaving the widened scarlet eyes he possessed as a great emptiness overcame him. But this time, such a hollow feeling had a revolting remorse as unwanted company. Kamukura’s hair dangled downwards in a messy tangle, the mouth-agape teen God himself uncaring of it as spacious remorse swirled around and manipulated his insides.

Unbeknownst to him, Junko stood in the background, having watched the whole scene with a satisfied smile on her face. She memorized where Komaeda had walked off to, heeled boots taking her in that direction with the usual ill intent.

* * *

Somewhere near the throne room in the same realm, Komaeda’s hands clung to his disheveled pale hair for dear life. While aware his existence wasn’t a long one, Komaeda felt a plethora of conflict inside. Confusion, guilt, self-disgust, all of them pushing the morose Observer around like some helpless child around cruel schoolmates. Before he could take another step forward, Komaeda let out a yelp when he felt something snag at his olive hoodie. Turning around, he sighed at the sight of a giggling Junko.

“So, cat’s out of the bag, huh?” Junko asked with a raised eyebrow of satisfaction.

“Am I really some filthy imposter, Second?” Komaeda asked in a low, depressed tone.

“'Filthy' is a _huge_ understatement, but yup! See, back when Izu-chan was just some mortal weirdo, he had this… friend.” Junko summoned Kamukura’s Inference Diary, flipping it open with her thumb to the morbid prediction describing the real Komaeda’s demise. “Read it and weep, Freak Boy II.”

“Hospital floors… Second… Nagito Komaeda’s corpse?” Komaeda skimmed, now more shocked than ever. “I really am just some cop-out replacement!”

“Upupu, sucks, don’t it?! The only thing you were good for was taking Survival Game notes when Izu-chan didn’t feel like watching, but you even fucked up his secret reason for making ya! Not that it was gonna work in the first place, but eh. Guess ya can’t blame him for trying, right?”

Komaeda didn’t say anything, eyes feeling as though they’d been caught in a swirl of madness while his breathing grew even more difficult to manage. When Junko put an arm around his shoulder after making the Inference Diary disappear, Komaeda flinched. The contact was not only uncomfortable, but even more-so unwanted. Despite his squirming, Junko didn’t move an inch.

“Hey, tell ya what,” Junko purred. “When someone worth it takes over for our dear Izu-chan, you can have a whole new Master! Then all that needs to be done is you forgetting aaall about your little heartbreaker.”

“I could never!” Komaeda objected, ripping himself away from Junko's touch. “Even if he only hates my disgusting self, my heart belongs only to Izuru-sama. It's his strong hope of being replaced is what keeps me going. When he's achieved that, I’ll have served him well.”

“Touching,” Junko groaned with revulsion. “Well, at least the new God won't have to put up with you anymore. What a relief.” She put a manicured finger to her lip, smiling mischievously all the more. “And don't worry, I _guarantee_ you and your gloomy boyfriend will get what you want soon. Very soon.”

“Hmm…” Komaeda pondered, giving Junko a skeptical look. “True. The Survival Game only has four players left. And who knows what will happen when one alliance remains.”

“Upupupu, I’m sure the end will be a blast! Now, run along while First and Second start dealing with things~. Why don't you make yourself useful and go… observe or whatever.”

Komaeda gave Junko another look of suspicion, putting on a calm smile as he left the realm to tend to his own needs. Junko walked off as well, going into the throne room to see Kamukura larger than life and sitting at his throne with discontent behind an apathetic expression. He looked down at the grinning Junko, rolling his eyes with disgust while slouching in the throne and sighing.

“What is it, Junko?” Kamukura asked without too much care.

“I can't just pay my own master a visit without being up to something?” Junko asked with a smirk.

“No, now what are you thinking of?”

“Aww, how flattering! Izu-chan wants to know what's on my mind~ You really like me that much?”

“The most I ‘like’ you is being able to hear your voice without completely throwing up. How's that?”

“Still pretty flattering coming from you~,” Junko teased, winking at Kamukura. “Anyways, I just wanted to check in with my favorite God.”

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

Seeing how apathetic and far from in the mood Kamukura was, Junko summoned a little dresser and mirror along with a small kit for both cosmetics and hair. Removing her bear-shaped pigtail holders, Junko's strawberry blonde hair fell past her mini skirt while she tended to applying mascara to her thick eyelashes. While combing and brushing her long hair, Junko looked back and up at the brooding Kamukura, grinning menacingly while recurring thoughts satisfied her.


	27. Day 46: Fighting Away A Painful Guilt!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment response:
> 
> Skittlethrill: I hope you weren't disappointed with the un-reveal for this chapter. But I promise! Tenth and Twelfth will be revealed in the next one! Also, they're in an alliance together just like Fifth and Sixth (Mukuro and Ishimaru). You seem to be enjoying things so far, even as we near the last two Diary Holders!
> 
> SHSL Guest: Haha, yeah! I'm hooked on both games! Though killing people for purple-haired Senpai's (I've also made Senpai look like Yukkii and used the Yuno hair) harder than it looks... Especially since he's so damn bland and dumb. ^w^;

Later that night, Ishimaru found himself back in the Cathedral Of Causality after falling into a deep slumber. He found the fact of him being asleep amazing after hours of fussing and quarreling with feelings of guilt mixed with agony. Walking forward into the throne room, Ishimaru approached where Kamukura sat, the God noticing after a few seconds. Ishimaru noticed the discomfort in Kamukura’s eyes, but the God shielded it with strong indifference quite well.

“Kamukura-kun?” Ishimaru asked, gathering the God’s attention.

“What?” Kamukura questioned back. “Make it good, Sixth.”

“Third told me something earlier. Is it… is it really impossible for me to bring Father, Kyoudai, and Chihiro-kun back from the dead if I win the Survival Game?”

“Ugh, good. Someone saved me the job of having to break it to you.” Kamukura turned around in his throne, facing Ishimaru completely with black hair wisping in his face. “No matter how much power I may have as a God, it’s impossible for me to bring someone back. The body? Yeah, that’s easy. But once someone loses their soul, it’s gone. Finished. End of story.”

As if the corroboration of the brutal truth wasn’t enough, Kamukura waved a hand in front of himself, three shrouds of darkness taking forms Ishimaru knew all too well. Before him were the corpses of Takaaki, Mondo, and Chihiro, all three bearing the wounds of their savage demises. Ishimaru stepped forward, unable to blink, lightly shaking the three bodies to be sure Kamukura was telling the truth. No matter how much he tried getting their attention and calling them back to consciousness, all three cadavers remained stagnant. When Kamukura made the corpses dissipate in a shroud of black smoke, he only blinked with indifference when Ishimaru fell to his knees as he felt like the air just left his lungs.

“I know, shocking that it’s _still_ impossible to bring someone back to life and that even a God has limits,” Kamukura scoffed sarcastically. “When are you people going to stop wasting my time with a stupid wish?”

“They’re gone forever…” Ishimaru breathed, lips quivering as messy tear drops came right out from his eyelids, mucus being sniffled back and prevented from exiting. “Not even a God can help them…”

“Sucks, don’t it? You might as well get over it while you still can. Watching you bawl like a kid is starting to bore me already. Geez, I’d hate to see what happens when you break the news to Fifth.”

“I can’t, Kamukura-kun! If Mukuro finds out about this, she’ll be crushed! Who am I to put her through that?”

“Obviously a terrible person if you can’t even tell your own girlfriend the harsh truth. She’s the oh-so ‘flawless’ SHSL Soldier; I’m sure Fifth has been through Hell worse than this.”

“That doesn’t mean anything! She still loves Naegi dearly! I may not be so sure how close I am to her heart, but I know that boy who died is certainly special to her!”

“Big whoop. I would have told Fifth on the first day, but look how well that turned out. Either way, she’s gonna find out eventually.”

“But she just can’t! I… I don’t have it in me to destroy her like that.”

“Whatever you say, Sixth. Though, don’t be surprised if she finds out you were keeping this from her and she hates your guts for it. But hey, if you wanna pay the price, that’s no skin off my nose.”

“Trust me, Kamukura-kun. Mukuro won’t have to find out about this awful news, and we’ll work through the rest of the game! You’ll see!”

Scoffing, Kamukura sent Ishimaru off. Ishimaru suddenly felt himself moving away from the throne without walking at all. In seconds, he snapped back to the mortal realm, eyes wide open in his bed while the clean white pajamas adorned his body from top to bottom. Ishimaru caught a few breaths, running a finger across his face where the dried tear trail and other liquids wound up escaping. Biting his lip, Ishimaru choked out more sobs at the mental reminder of his thwarted goal and reason to live, cries and tears eventually possessing him.

 _“Damn it all!”_ Ishimaru cursed in his mind, _“What sort of God can't bring back a single soul?! The one motivation I had in this dumb Game… it's of no use now! I hate this all so much!”_

While clutching his head and allowing the morose liquids free themselves from his ruddy and puffed face, Ishimaru heard his Friendship Diary alert him of a text message. He opened the phone, reading words from Mukuro through blurry and tear-blocked eyes. It was a simple message of concern, reading “R U sleeping well, Kiyotaka? I'm so worried”. Instead of responding right away, Ishimaru's hand shook with the phone in his grasp, tears filling up with guilt when Mukuro came to mind.

Ishimaru slowly moved his thumb to one of the buttons, contemplating on whether or not to tell Mukuro about what he’d just found out about. His brain tried forcing his finger to start typing away at the direct announcement, but whatever else he felt for the Soldier prevented success. Instead, Ishimaru began typing the words “I’m fine. Can we talk tomorrow? It’s urgent.”, sending it and receiving a response of acceptance in seconds.

“Mukuro…” Ishimaru sighed, toying with his lip as he closed his phone and put it on his dressed, slowly shutting his tear-stained eyes after leaning back into the pillow for more sleep.

* * *

The next morning that Sunday, Ishimaru left his room fully dressed by 6:30. He looked at the permanently locked doors once belonging to Mondo and Chihiro, feeling his body shake with grief and despair. Shutting his eyes and forcing tears back, Ishimaru turned away from the painful reminder to walk to Mukuro's room close-by. He knocked on the door a few times with apprehensiveness, calling through the wood softly.

“Are you awake yet, Mukuro?” Ishimaru asked.

“Yes, but I’m not done getting dressed,” Mukuro answered, unaware of Ishimaru's flustered blush from the words. “Give me a few more minutes, then we'll talk.”

Ishimaru gulped the thick liquid in his throat, nervous once more at what he’d have to tell Mukuro. After a few minutes, out came the one who’d secretly received his affections, fully dressed with her Tactics Diary in her washed blouse pocket. She gave Ishimaru a smile, only to flatten her lips again upon seeing his face.

“Having a rough morning?” Mukuro asked. “What is it you’d like to talk about?”

“Oh, that,” Ishimaru sighed, forcing himself to make visual contact with Mukuro. “Yes, it's quite an important matter. But, I don't know how to go about it.”

“Taka, don't be afraid to speak to me. I'm sure whatever you have to say to me, I’ll greet with open arms as I will always do you. So, what is it you want to say to me, Kiyotaka?”

Ishimaru’s forehead started to sweat, looking at Mukuro with sudden nausea. There she was, giving him a look of pure warmth alongside concern, and here he was about to make her hate him forever. Just the thought of such a loathing from Mukuro already pained Ishimaru's heart, his fear consuming him entirely. Gulping, he took a deep breath and spoke to her.

“Mukuro, if you don't mind me saying this…” Ishimaru hesitated. “I…”

“You what?” Mukuro wondered, raising an eyebrow.

“I… wanted to tell you that I… require your help!” Ishimaru lied, clasping Mukuro's hands with his sweaty ones. “Train me, Mukuro! I request of you to improve my combat skills!”

“Train you?” Mukuro repeated, taken by surprise. “Kiyotaka, you seem to be doing pretty well at staying alive on your own.”

“I suppose, but what if our final two opponents are stronger than we’re anticipating? You never know what might trigger a Dead End, Muki!”

Mukuro processed the thought, looking dead into Ishimaru's eyes as he appeared nervous. Within the Hall Monitor was a pleading hope that Mukuro would buy the fib, which he felt bad enough for telling already. As a response, Mukuro shifted her hands and linked her fingers in Ishimaru's, smiling again as the boy’s blush made a hasty comeback.

“I’d be happy to,” Mukuro agreed. “To think I underestimated Tenth and Twelfth’s possible prowess. Kiyotaka Ishimaru, when I'm done with you, you’ll be practically invincible!”

“Thank you, Mukuro,” Ishimaru said uneasily. “There aren't any classes until tomorrow, so when is a good time to come by?”

“How about after breakfast? Then perhaps another sometime in the afternoon?”

“Sounds like a plan to me! We’ll begun discussing at breakfast time!”

“That's gonna start any minute. Let's get going, shall we?”

Nodding, Ishimaru walked down the hallways with Mukuro to breakfast. His heart was beating fast just by being near her, but among each thump of joy came a twinge of guilt. His eyebrows creased upwards while Ishimaru let a quiet sigh pass his teeth, the oblivious ex-mercenary thankfully not catching on. Ishimaru looked at how peaceful Mukuro was that morning by just walking with him, mourning the more than likely loss of it if the truth about her top goal ever got passed his lips. For then, however, Ishimaru shook his head a few times and ignored it, coming across the cafeteria and going inside with Mukuro.

* * *

Not too far from Hope’s Peak Academy, Komaeda roamed the streets of Osaka, looking at a notepad with little writing on the front page. He looked around at each address and back at the one scribbled in at the top of his notepad, only for his eyes to fall in disappointment when he could find the right address.

“Okay, if I were a hotel containing Tenth and Twelfth as guests, where would I be?” Komaeda asked himself. “There has to be so many buildings in this area, so their hotel could be anywhere!”

Komaeda walked down the street, looking high and low for the address in his notepad. Just when he thought he had the right address upon spotting a tall building that looked to be touching the sky, a few steps closer to the front refuted his assurance.

More and more inconsequential buildings Komaeda passed, growing somewhat annoyed by the minute. He looked at the vague notes about Tenth and Twelfth in his notepad, wanting nothing more than to gain more for the sake of his mission. Despite the uneasy feeling he got at the thought of directly facing Kamukura, Komaeda’s heart still fluttered and tickled for his master and was dead set on fulfilling his “meaningless” purpose. Komaeda spotted a random stranger walking past him, going over for much-needed assistance.

“Excuse me, do you know where this address is?” Komaeda asked them.

“What, that old hotel down the block?” they wondered, pointing in the right direction. “Just keep going that way and make a left before you reach another block. It should be right on that corner.”

“Thank you very much! I’ll be on my way now.”

Komaeda walked away from the stranger, following their directions and traversing the path he’d previously come from. He made the appointed left before coming across a new block, stopping in front of yet another sky-scraping building. Komaeda looked at the address on the paper, delighted to see the words matched the ones on the building. He immediately went in, the rustic lobby nicely lit and smelling vaguely of jasmine. Delicate music resonated through the area, soothing Komaeda's ears as he approached the front desk.

“Hello, I'm looking for two friends of mine,” Komaeda told the person.

“Okay, what are their names, Sir?” they asked.

Komaeda told them two names belonging to the Tenth and Twelfth Diary Holders respectively. The front desk attendee typed the names into the keyboard, searching for them until shaking their head from the results.

“Ooh, sorry,” they apologized sincerely. “Both of them checked out just this morning.”

“They did? Drat, do you know where they are now?”

“No, I don't. But I think one of them mentioned something about going up north in the city. You could try looking for your friends there.”

“Much obliged. I’ll be on my way now.”

Komaeda left the hotel, heading to the nearest transit bus stop for a faster access up north. When it came after ten tedious minutes of waiting, Komaeda paid the cheap fare. Sitting down in a seat towards the front, he looked out the window and around the vessel for his targets.

Eventually, the bus came to a stop near northern Osaka, Komaeda getting off without a word. He started with the set of business buildings on the city's left half, skimming through windows and doors for his future study subjects. When he found nothing, Komaeda moved across the street to continue despite his weariness from searching all day.

“If only those two hadn't checked out,” Komaeda sighed. “Being an Observer with a subpar existence is quite difficult. If there were a time for my stupid luck curse to work, now would be it!”

Right when he’d said it, Komaeda entered the park. Looking up with pale shamrock-colored eyes, he smirked when he’d spotted his targets sitting together on the bench. Although both started to get up and walk side by side, Komaeda was able to catch up with them in a slight jog. He got their attention by tapping a shoulder, retaining his externally friendly smile all the same.

“Hello, you two,” Komaeda greeted with a wave, taking out his pen and notepad. “I'm Nagito Komaeda.”

* * *

Later on in the afternoon at Hope's Peak Academy, Ishimaru walked into the training room with Mukuro, both wearing comfortable workout clothes for their session. Ishimaru did a few more stretches to prepare his tendons, remembering some tips from earlier in the morning.

“Are you ready for your first sparring lesson, Taka?” Mukuro asked. “Don't make your request all for nought.”

“More than so!” Ishimaru declared boisterously, clenching his fist. “You won't regret this, Mukuro!”

“I'm sure I won't.” Mukuro walked over after stretching, taking Ishimaru's Friendship Diary and putting it away in a safe place next to her Tactics Diary. “Relying entirely on the future isn't helpful for this session. In battle, sometimes the best thing to rely on is your own instincts.”

“Affirmative! Shall we begin?”

“That we shall. Commence the match!”

Both bowed their torsos at each other without making eye contact, raising up seconds before Mukuro made the first strike. She charged forward at Ishimaru with a forward thrust punch, who ducked himself backwards to evade the attack. Ishimaru swung his leg at Mukuro, only to fail in successfully executing the kick when Mukuro quickly grabbed his ankle and tossed him onto the padded mat below.

“If you’re going to do a mid-kick, then try not to leave yourself too open,” Mukuro advised, pulling Ishimaru off the ground so he could stand again. “Try to aim for your opponent’s torso instead of their arms where they could grab you.”

“Noted,” Ishimaru nodded, standing away from Mukuro to start over.

Ishimaru charged in, swinging another punch at his practice opponent. He was surprised of have managed to get a hit on Mukuro. Mukuro herself took a few steps forward from the strength of the punch, brushing her torso off with a hand before moving to get a swinging kick to Ishimaru’s left side, inflicting pain in the area he soon clutched. When he knelt down, Mukuro attempted a drop kick, only for Ishimaru to grab her ankle at the very last second, using both hands to flip her over.

“Not bad, Taka,” Mukuro commented with a small smile. “You’ve learned already.”

“Thank you, Muki!” Ishimaru responded happily. “But, our match has yet to come to a close!”

“You’ve got that right!”

As soon as she leaped up from the ground, Mukuro delivered another punch to Ishimaru’s muscular abdomen, causing him to cry out and reel back in pain. With one arm not clutching the area, Ishimaru thrust out another sucker punch, only for Mukuro to grab both the Hall Monitor’s upper arms and push him downwards, her entire form holding him down in a pin hold against the padded mat.

“M-Mukuro…” Ishimaru breathed, a blush running across his face as Mukuro smirked at him from above.

“You forgot about leaving yourself open,” Mukuro warned him seriously, keeping the firm pin on Ishimaru. “Try to guard yourself if you’re going to use a risky punch like that, okay?”

“Yes, I understand. Would you mind getting off of me so we could continue our sparring match?”

Just as Mukuro was about to comply, Ishimaru grabbed her by the wrists, performing a successful flip that resulted in him pinning Mukuro to the ground instead. The surprised Mukuro blinked, taken completely by bombshell of the counter act. Ishimaru helped Mukuro up, offering her a taken hand as he did so.

“Nice counterattack,” Mukuro remarked, scratching her head as a light blush colored her freckles.

“Thank you!” Ishimaru chirped, stepping away from Mukuro to continue the match. “It’s just a little improvisation that came to me at the last second!”

Bowing their upper halves once again, Ishimaru and Mukuro rushed forward to strike each other as to continue the sparring match between them. Constant punches and kicks proved to be equal in power, neither willing to hold back to prove superiority. Despite the physical pain inflicted, both parties felt nothing but joy from being around each other alone. Smiles would cross their faces with each attack, breaths caught to keep up their strength a little more.

* * *

After about a good hour of sparring, Ishimaru and Mukuro shook each other’s hand once before picking up their respective Future Diaries. As expected, both had entries on each other regarding the friendly combat match, which went skimmed by their owners. Mukuro handed Ishimaru a plastic bottle of fresh water, gulping down her own until only a small portion of liquid was left behind.

“Your hand-to-hand combat is efficient,” Mukuro told Ishimaru. “If you’re strong enough to withstand my attacks, then I’m sure whatever Tenth and Twelfth have to throw at you will be no problem.”

“True,” Ishimaru agreed, his brain reminding him of what he should have told Mukuro before. “Oh, and Mukuro?”

“Is there a problem, Kiyotaka?”

“Indeed. About my request this morning, I haven’t been telling you the full details on what I wanted to say, Mukuro.”

“Okay. Go ahead and tell me. I’ll listen.”

Ishimaru gulped again, feeling sweat pour down his already fittness-heated face. He looked Mukuro right in the eyes, his stomach begging for purge from anxiety at a potential bad future. Taking a deep breath, he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“I… I want to be trained in weapon use as well!” Ishimaru lied, raising his hand impulsively.

“Weapons, huh? Don’t you already take kendō lessons?”

“Yes, but it’s just in case something goes awry in battle! I want to be fully prepared for that moment, Mukuro! The more prepared I am, the bigger the chance I can stay alive!”

“I suppose. Very well, when’s a good time to train you?”

“How about tomorrow during lunch? Classes are ending earlier then, right?”

“That they are. Okay, we’ll meet up at the same place tomorrow! I look forward to it, Kiyotaka.”

Seeing how no one was around and therefore not violating the “no PDA” rule of Ishimaru, Mukuro pulled the male into a deep hug, Ishimaru not making any movements from the gesture. He hesitated to return the gesture, guilt tugging at his being like a puppeteer would a stringed marionette. His arms wrapped around Mukuro’s figure, the girl pulling away from him and happily planting a pecked kiss on his cheek. Ishimaru put a hand to the kissed area, treating it as if it were some undeserved treasure.

“Have a nice day, Kiyotaka,” Mukuro said, leaving the room with a light smile.

“Y-You as well, Mukuro,” Ishimaru exhaled, waving Mukuro goodbye slowly.

Opening his Friendship Diary once alone, Ishimaru left the room on his own while looking at the screen. All over his white cell phone were messages about Mukuro and their sparring match, including a true one reading “13:05: Mukuro kisses me on the cheek after agreeing to train me some more tomorrow. This must be why people say ‘love hurts’, isn’t it?” Sighing with guilt, Ishimaru closed his Friendship Diary and continued his way down the stairs to the Dormitory Wing. While walking, he was unfortunate enough to bump into Sakura, whose worry was visible in her pale blue eyes.

“Hello, Ishimaru,” she greeted calmly. “You wouldn’t have happened to have seen Asahina around, have you?”

Ishimaru gulped, biting his lip to the point where his teeth threatened to make it bleed. Out of all the people to ask that nerve-wracking question, it had to be Sakura Oogami. His eyes darted everywhere around Sakura, finally facing her when she asked the question again. Catching a few anxious breaths, Ishimaru opened his mouth as sweat poured from his skin.

“No, I haven’t,” Ishimaru lied, trying not to blow his cover. “Has she not been turning up?”

“I’m afraid not. I haven’t seen Asahina since last night. I do hope she’s okay.”

“So do I. It’d be such a shame if someone lost another they held dear.”

Sakura nodded in agreement and bid Ishimaru farewell, leaving him behind in an atmosphere of expanded guilt. Heart racing fearfully, Ishimaru speed-walked all the way back to his room in the first floor’s Dormitory Wing. The second he entered, he sprawled himself all over the bed, gripping the sheets and other soft materials atop his sleeping block. Ishimaru’s urge to slam his head against something hard was strong, but the SHSL Hall Monitor combated it regardless.

“Such a hectic day this has been,” Ishimaru said to himself in his pillow, looking up at his headboard with prematurely tired eyes. “Keeping secrets is easier said than done. Maybe a little schoolwork will take my mind off of things.”

Ishimaru got up from his bed, going over to his study table. He opened his math textbook, taking a practice worksheet out from a folder and writing in answers with an eraser-less pencil after looking into the book briefly. Each response and work put onto the paper did reduce a bit of stress from his tended duties, but most still lingered within. Despite the rueful feelings inside, Ishimaru made himself work more and focus on academics instead. At the very least, his homework’s importance was great enough to keep him distracted from personal struggles. Once he got the math worksheet done for tomorrow’s plans, Ishimaru moved right onto his science homework, re-reading the assigned chapter for whatever would come within the next day or so.


	28. Day 47: A Spontaneously Thrilling Love Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses are... good!:
> 
> Everyone (Skittlethrill, Jasper, and SHSL Guest): You'll get your answer in this chapter. Also, I actually ship both of those guesses. Good ships they are! Especially KuzuPeko, like holy shit.
> 
> This chapter's another flashback one (the last, I promise). So, you'll get a little insight on Tenth and Twelfth! Enjoy, and more importantly: Stay freeeeesh~! ♥

_Polished heeled shoes clacked against the marble floor, the girl they belonged to idly walking by in the strangely empty halls. Upon seeing a particular back turned up ahead, the girl ran right towards her loved one, pulling them into a tight hug of affection._

_“Hello, my dear!” the girl greeted, nuzzling her face against the back, only to get no response. “...Are you alright? Why aren't you saying anything?”_

_She turned the person around, eyes widening with horror at the gruesome sight of her beloved’s bloody and punctured torso. As the lifeless body fell forward, the girl released terrified screams, hands gripping her head as she pleaded for a miracle._

_“No! NO NO NO! Anyone but you!” she screamed, pounding on their body with her head pressed into the bloodied chest. “Wake up! Damn it, wake up! Wake up--”_

* * *

“Wake up!” the gritty voice of a female commanded next to the messy pile of long pale gold hair next to her, shaking the girl who owned it. “Sonia, it's just a nightmare, wake up!”

The startled Sonia awoke from her nightmare at last, panting as her worried heart tried slowing down once it realized she was safe in the cozy hotel room. Grabbing the emerald green flip cell phone encrusted with false rhinestones on the top lid, Sonia didn't see anything that corroborated her night vision. With the moon’s help, Sonia took one look at who was next to her, the ever-so tired Akane Owari. Sea green eyes started filling with tears as their owner put the closed phone on the nightstand, Sonia breaking down in tears as she pulled Akane into a tight hug, lacking the intention to let go.

“I thought I’d lost you!” Sonia bawled, burying her head deeper into Akane’s busty chest. “Y-You died right in front of me, and--!”

“Hey, c’mon, babe,” Akane assured Sonia, propping the other girl so she looked at a welcoming pair of brown eyes. “It's gonna be alright. I promised nothing would happen to you, so I’ll make sure nothin’ happens to me in this Game either!”

“A-Are you sure, my dear? It would be unforgivable of me if I'm not sure to watch over you…”

“Sonia, how long have we been together? You should know me by now!”

“I know, Akane. I just… worry at times. Especially considering what will happen after we kill Fifth and Sixth.”

“Hey, remember what I said about worrying too much. If ya keep focusing on bein’ worried, then you're bound ta lose and you're not gonna like it!”

“Ah, that's right. I keep forgetting you have a staunch enmity with defeat.” Sonia sniffled away tears and mucus, bucking up for Akane. “For your sake, my dearest one, I won't give into despair!” Sonia gripped a bicep with her palm, smiling with confidence at the girl next to her in bed.

“Now, that's more like it! There's the confident Princess I know that's ready ta take on anyone!”

Akane pulled Sonia in closer, leaving a butterfly kiss on the other girl's breastbone, making her way up to the neck as Sonia started giggling from her girlfriend’s sensation. Eventually, Akane’s lips made it to Sonia’s, the blonde reciprocating the action by digging deeper into her only love's mouth, tongue and all. After a few seconds of heated kissing and slight moans, the lovers pulled apart for breath, both laying back on the pillows beside each other. The sleepy, yet excited Sonia pulled Akane close, snuggling up to her chest as a hand pulled the lamp chain and killed the light source. Just as they got comfortable, Sonia looked back at the hotel room door for any unwanted visitors.

“We lost Komaeda-san, right, darling?” Sonia asked.

“Sure hope so,” Akane answered. “That kid gave me the creeps. Kind of a major downer too if ya ask me. Always sulking and crying so damn much.”

“That's… not how I remember him at all. He actually seemed rather perky and open to knowing about us!”

“Yeah yeah, I guess. G’night, Sonia.”

“Good night, Akane.”

* * *

The following morning, Sonia awoke rubbing away the gunk from her eyes. Seeing how deep in sleep Akane was, the blonde girl let her snooze a little while longer. Carefully getting up from the bed, Sonia removed the white spaghetti strap top from her body followed by her spandex shorts of an alike color. Once in her ruffled black-and-pink underwear, Sonia fished through her suitcase on the floor, pulling out her green dress with poofy short white sleeves. She unzipped the back and stepped into it, reaching back to pull the zipper up and brushing off the red bow attached to the front before buckling the attached white belt. Sonia adorned her feet with knee-length black stockings, afterwards removing a scrunchie from her flowing blonde hair, letting the locks fall past her thighs.

“Now for the finishing touch,” Sonia said to herself, going over to the dresser and brushing her lengthy pale yellow hair, braiding a section and locking it around the crown of her head. She finished up by fastening the braid with a jewel-covered black hair bow, giving herself a thumbs up in the mirror. “Perfect! Are you ready to go, Akane?” she asked, opening the blinds and letting in the sunlight next to hers and Akane’s hotel bed.

Grumbling in her sleep from the brightness of the day, Akane yawned and got up from the bed, dragging herself out groggily. Despite the window being open to the public, Akane removed her purple tank top and black shorts, leaving herself in only her panties.

“Dear, wouldn’t you rather dress over here?” Sonia asked, a bead of sweat rolling down her face.

“No, why? What’s the big deal, Son?” Akane wondered, oblivious to the flaw in her method of getting dressed while pulling up her red skirt.

“Oh… nevermind. Carry on.”

With no qualms about dressing in front of an open window, Akane put on a short-sleeved white shirt, buttoning only buttons in the direct center. She slipped a pair of beige loafers, yawning and stretching her arms one last time before joining Sonia over by the dresser. Akane picked up the maroon flip cell phone, checking it for anything new before putting it away in her shirt pocket. Sonia herself was still skimming through previous messages, her mind still tugging at the nightmare she had the night before.

“Your Thriller Diary say anything?” Akane asked her girlfriend, looking over at the phone’s screen.

“Hmm, not at the moment,” Sonia refuted, closing the aventurine-colored cellular device and putting it between the white and green part of her upper dress. “The only horror movie-ish entries I have so far are the ones from yesterday.”

“That’s a relief.” A loud grumbling sound from Akane’s stomach shook her abdomen, a smile spreading across her face. “Well, I’m starving! Let’s get some breakfast, Sonia!”

“I am a little famished. Where do you want to go?”

“I heard this hotel’s got some choice options…!” Akane started to drool, twiddling her index fingers as her lips trembled with excitement. “C’mon, what’re we waiting for, babe? Let’s go down!”

Sonia giggled, fastening a pair of ruby Mary Jane low heels to her feet and leaving the room with Akane, locking the door behind her. She mutually linked hands with the bustier woman with tanned skin, smiling as she stared at Akane with loving eyes and a blush-painted complexion.

On the way to the elevator, the girls passed a few hotel guests, who glanced at them with curiosity before no longer caring and shrugging them off indifferently. The apathy from the strangers soothed Sonia’s heart, but at the same time brought her mind back to so long ago. Back to a time when she received stares that were less accepting, less gentle even before she’d officially met the woman of her dreams.

* * *

_Sonia remembered walking down the halls of the prestigious and famous Hope’s Peak Academy, shoulder bag on her body and foreign books in her arms. She still had a lingering case of the yawns, the flight from Novoselic to Japan a lengthy one. Checking the time on her phone’s surface, Sonia had another two minutes to get to her first class._

_Once the bell rang, Sonia walked through the door of her advisory classroom, putting her stuff down at an empty desk. Next to her desk was one occupied by a busty girl with unkempt chestnut hair touching her shoulders, the girl herself trying to stay awake despite her boredom. When she caught Sonia staring, she raised a brow._

_“What?” she asked Sonia, skeptical._

_“Nothing,” Sonia answered, turning away as the girl went back to ignoring her._

_“Class, we have a new student among us,” the teacher announced, grabbing everyone's attention. “Nevermind-san, if you would come and introduce yourself.”_

_Sonia caught her last name with the Japanese honorific, going up to the board with several eyes following her. Grabbing the chalk, Sonia brought the white stick in several directions, writing her name in a foreign language she’d studied hard, only unable to accurately interpret a few minor slang words. Once finished, Sonia turned around to face her amused class, taking a deep breath and perking up with positive thoughts._

_“Good morning, class,” Sonia introduced rather formally. “My name is… Sonia Nevermind! I am the SHSL-- or was it, the ‘Ultimate’ Princess?” Snickers and giggles started moving amongst the class, Sonia trying to keep a strong face despite her threatening embarrassment. “A-Anyways! I come from the small, yet beautiful country of N-Novoselic, and I am more than pleased to--”_

_“Oh, wow! Take a look at this chick!” one of Sonia’s new classmates cackled, pointing back with a thumb._

_“I know right? I have yet to meet a foreigner who wasn’t so aggravating to hear!” another agreed, amused and disgusted at Sonia’s presence. “At least she got the language right!”_

_“Yeah, just barely! Who the hell uses that dialect anymore?”_

_The side of Sonia’s mouth was tilted into a half smile, not quite sure what she did wrong. When the teacher told her to take her seat, as if unaware of the rude comments, Sonia kept a brave face and did as she was told humbly. Although rather embarrassed on the inside, the SHSL Princess refused to break character in front of her jeering classmates, looking left directly at the one only who paid her no heed._

_Sonia’s day went as badly as homeroom. Although she remained patient and friends of others, her Japanese classmates didn't share that compassion. No matter which class she attended, there were people her age sneering at her and exchanging malicious whispers. Whenever Sonia tried to ask so little as a question to her peers, they’d brush her off completely when they weren't responding with a lack of manners._

_“Somebody tell me the answer to question 7?” the teacher asked during biology, pointing to Sonia when she raised her hand joyfully. “Nevermind-san? What's your answer?”_

_“Cancellous bone tissue,” Sonia answered._

_“Correct, Nevermind-san. Excellent job.”_

_“Tch, I'm surprised she even knew what ‘cancellous’ meant,” Sonia heard someone scoff. “I guess people in… whatever country she's from can’t be too dumb to live.”_

_“I know. I'm still shocked the foreign hermit even knows simple stuff like this.”_

_Sonia let out a low growl, irritated at the prejudice towards her and Novoselic. Taking a single deep breath, Sonia held her tongue and continued participating in the aggravating lecture._

_The worst period of all, in the Princess’ opinion, was her Japanese History & Culture class. No other lesson had Sonia been looking forward to more than to learn about the country of her dreams, the mockery that transpired made the stress even harsher. Just one harmless question made it all the more worse for Sonia._

_“Was fish a common delicacy back in the 20th century, Sensei?” Sonia asked, raising her hand and blocking out the confused murmurs._

_“What makes you ask that, Nevermind-san?” the man questioned the student._

_“If I recall, you said grilled mackerel was a popular dish back then? Is that not correct?”_

_“Ugh, it wasn't grilled mackerel, Princess Dumbass!” one student jeered with disgust. “People liked to buy fried buckwheat noodles!”_

_“Oh. But, I heard it was grilled mackerel--”_

_“Then get your ears cleaned out, Princess!”_

_“Unbelievable! She can't even get her facts right! Some exchange student!”_

_The rest of the class started laughing and berating Sonia for her faux-pas, the blue blood shrinking slightly down in her seat as the teacher quieted the class to continue his lesson. Sonia squinted at her right, noticing the same girl with messy brown hair just relaxing; no laughter or mockery from her at all. Regardless, the class’ loathing of Sonia overpowered that one girl’s indifference._

_“Okay, can anybody name a food that used to be used in place of yen?” the teacher asked._

_About to open her mouth, Sonia wasn't too sure on her own answer. Words danced around her tongue tip, only to be rooted by seeds of doubt. She had her arm raised halfway when the teacher called on someone else, declaring a simple answer of “rice” correct._

_“What? Did I steal the clueless alien’s answer?” the student taunted at Sonia. “I doubt you even knew it.”_

_“For you information, I had the answer perfectly prepared, but you--”_

_“--Ugh, enough! When are outsiders like you gonna stop butchering our language? Sheesh!”_

_The class muttered with derisive agreements, firing prejudice and insults towards Sonia. Because the teacher practically ignored it, all Sonia could do was block her ears and endure the loathing. From her right, Sonia got a stare from the indifferent girl, only for the Princess to look away with shame._

_Not too long after the lecture, the afternoon bell rang and commanded most students to go to lunch. Sonia picked up her belongings and headed to the cafeteria, a few students bumping into her and snapping with “Move it, brainless foreigner!” in different variants. Sonia held her breath, choosing not to scold them and arriving at the cafeteria after a short walk._

_Looking around her new scenery, Sonia went to the kitchen and gathered only a few things for a snack, having lost her appetite earlier on. Holding a few rice balls and a bottle of juice, Sonia wandered around the room for a place to sit. When she politely asked a few people at one table if she could join them, they shooed her away by ignoring her and continuing their conversation. Sonia walked away with an amiable “very well”, only to become bewildered when they accepted a native roaming student’s offer to sit at their table._

_“Their social skills are deplorable,” Sonia grumbled. “This is no way to treat a Princess! No matter, I’m sure some people are more open to my presence.”_

_Sonia’s memory brought up how she ate more of those words for lunch than her actual food. Wherever she asked to sit, the SHSL Princess either got brushed off, or a polite rejection seconds before the people at the table talked ill of her status and her lack of nativity. Giving up, Sonia sighed and found a quiet seat at a desolate table to sit at, putting her food down and staring at it glumly._

_“Whatever am I doing incorrectly?” Sonia wondered, tapping one of her rice balls. “I haven’t badmouthed anybody, my Japanese isn’t deplorable, so… just what is it?!”_

_The blonde was ripped from her thoughts when the sound of a heavy plate hit the table, causing her to look up and see the same girl from her earlier classes who showed her nothing but indifference. Sonia raised an eyebrow at the girl, her eyes then falling to the copious amounts of food on her plate despite her athletic physique. The tanned native girl was about to dig right into some meat on a bone when she noticed Sonia, blinking her brown eyes once before recognizing her._

_“Oh hey, you’re that Princess girl or somethin’,” she remembered. “Uhh… ‘Sarah’, right?”_

_“Erm, that’s ‘Sonia’, Miss,” Sonia corrected. “Sonia Nevermind?”_

_“Ah, I guess so. The name’s Akane Owari! SHSL Gymnast.” Akane introduced herself at the same time she stuffed her face with a large bite of meat, offering her free hand for Sonia to shake._

_“It’s very nice to meet you, Owari-san,” Sonia responded, shaking the hand with hope at Akane’s amiability. “How come…”_

_“How come what?” Akane asked, interrupting Sonia before the Princess could start her response. “Hey, the heck’s up with that?”_

_“Up with what?”_

_“Your spread, Princess. If you can even **call** it that! Ain’t you hungry?”_

_“N-No, I don’t suppose so. Today’s hectic events made my appetite go quite down.”_

_“That’s no excuse not ta eat! Here, lemme help you out with that.” Despite Sonia’s polite objections, Akane took half of her spread and gave it to Sonia, telling her not to return it. “Look, Nevermind, eating’s important! Without food, you’re just bound ta kick the bucket!”_

_“I understand, Owari-san. But really, I don’t know if I can finish all of this!” Sonia’s protest went false the second her stomach growled vigorously, a blush coming to her sheepish face as she gave Akane an uneasy smile._

_“I think your stomach’s telllin’ a different story there, Princess,” Akane retorted, scarfing down more food into her swollen cheeks. “C’mon, eat up!”_

_Without thinking much of it, Sonia wound up devouring nearly three-quarters of her plate out of hunger, Akane nodding when her point was affirmed. Unlike the Gymnast, however, Sonia always finished eating her food before speaking, something Akane never thought to do. Somewhere towards the end of their meals, Sonia’s memory brought back the question she intended to ask Akane earlier._

_“Oh, as I was saying before,” Sonia continued. “I intended to ask why you’re being so nice to me, but our other classmates aren’t.”_

_“Eh, to be honest, I don’t really see the big deal with foreigners,” Akane admitted, slouching back in her seat. “People come to Japan and wanna stay here, big whoop. What’s the big deal with that?”_

_“Yes, thank you!” Sonia nearly screeched. “Apparently wanting to absorb as much knowledge about the wonderful Japanese culture is such a horrendous crime that it deserves ostracization! That’s, how they say, ‘messed up’, is it not?”_

_“Ehh… sure. Whatever ostra… that word you said was, means. I just think people from other countries shouldn’t be picked on for doin’ nothin’ wrong. You didn’t ask anyone ta fight you, did you… Princess?”_

_“No. At least not yet anyhow…” Sonia grumbled, an amused Akane laughing when she heard it._

_“Tell ya what. If ya wind up pickin’ a fight with anyone, I’ll have your back through it, ‘k?”_

_“Indeed! Though worry not, Owari-san, I’m sure I can keep my patience up.”_

_The bell rang again, sending the dining students off to the rest of their day. Sonia saw she still had some food left on her plate, but due to her filled stomach, couldn’t digest another bite. Instead, she handed the remains to Akane, who consumed it in seconds with joy. When Akane slung her school bag over her back, Sonia hesitated for a few moments until stopping her when they reached the door._

_“Yeah, Princess?” Akane asked._

_“Owari-san, I’d like to know,” Sonia said. “Is it alright if we keep meeting up like this? You know, as ‘lunch buddies’?”_

_“I wouldn’t call it that, if you ask me. But, I like your style! If you wanna sit together during lunch, just come to the same table, alright?”_

_“You have yourself a deal!”_

_Sonia shook Akane’s hand, sealing the vow as they went their separate ways for the time being. Sonia thankfully only had two classes remaining, the first of the set just as hectic as previous hours. What made up for it was the final class, where slouching in her seat was Akane, sitting right behind Sonia. Whenever the teacher wasn’t giving lessons and the rest of the class shunned her, Sonia would turn around and strike up a mutual conversation with Akane, asking the Gymnast little information bits about herself while answering the same questions in return when asked. Neither paid any heed to the stares of disgust shot at them, instead laughing with each other at little jokes or quips exchanged, enjoying their brief talks during the class._

_By the day’s end, Sonia became quick friends with Akane, finally having found a classmate who actually bothered to give her a positive time of day. As she happily sat in her dorm room viewing a film about a serial killer in a costume terrorizing innocents, Sonia started to feel even better from the semi-rough day she had. The horror film did wonders for her heart, combined with new memories of Akane in the mix of relief._

_As an entire fortnight passed from then all the way to a Friday afternoon, Akane and Sonia continued to meet up with each other and converse, enjoying each other’s presence more and more as they absorbed more information. Sonia took quite a liking to Akane’s skills in “parkour”, though just as sure to keep her discomfort at the context of learning to herself. Akane herself seemed to want to learn more about Sonia’s country, her expectations of Novoselic being a prim and proper country shot down when the Princess foretold of common customs._

_“I’m sure with your agility and fighting abilities, you’d fit right in in my country,” Sonia giggled, smiling at Akane. “I’d like to give your ‘parkour’ a try sometime!”_

_“Princess, it ain’t something you can just do on the first try,” Akane warned. “I’m a gymnast who got chased by creeps a lot, so it takes time.”_

_“Oh, I can learn! Your athletic customs intrigue me so!”_

_“I’ll think about those lessons. Say, what foods does your country have? I’m kinda hungry…”_

_“Excellent question, Owari-san! Novoselic is known for making the best wine and chocolate. but there’s a special custom regarding the rare beast Skong.”_

_“Skong? Does it taste good?”_

_“It’s an acquired flavor. It’s a little gamy, but I’m sure you’d like it! After all, you wouldn’t be able to officially mature if you fail to eat it at the appointed age.”_

_“Good day, class,” the Japanese History & Culture teacher greeted, entering the room with his book of planned lessons. “I’m happy to announce that you’ll all have a project due before the month ends.”_

_“Ugh, a project?” Akane groaned, leaning back even more in her seat. “Damn it, I’d rather have a test or somethin’!”_

_“You’ve all been assigned your cultural topics, so feel free to choose a partner with the same one. Just follow the guidelines and you’ll do fine.”_

_Sonia had her topic memorized, elated at the fact that Akane had the same one. Paying absolutely no heed to anyone else, Sonia grabbed the SHSL Gymnast’s hand and declared they were partners. Akane didn’t hesitate to agree, grinning and shaking her head yes. Everyone in the classroom started discussing their topic, the Princess and Gymnast included as they started taking notes from borrowed books._

_That following evening after classes, Akane paid Sonia a visit to her room to get a start on the project. Exchanged were notes, books, and factual words, the project made less and less boring by the girl’s opposite partner. While Akane could hardly keep herself focused on the task at hand, the facts and history of the culture had Sonia wrapped around its finger. Hearing it come from her new friend’s mouth seemed to have made it even more exciting for the Princess, who hung onto every word Akane read from the book despite the reluctance to work._

_“‘Despite its name, Golden Week only has four days used to celebrate’,” Akane read as Sonia penned down notes. “‘These four holidays are Showa Day, Constitution Day, Greenery Day, and Children's Day’.”_

_“Children's… Day! Tell me, Owari-san. What are these holidays like in your personal experience? Are they exciting?”_

_“Eh, Showa and Constitution Day are just old history days for the emperor. Greenery Day tells us to stop being mean to the Earth… and I can't say I ever really celebrated Children's Day.”_

_“Why ever not? You never got the chance in your youth?”_

_“Well, besides the fact that the Golden Week one is for boys, my family isn't the most ‘wealthy’ like yours probably is. Hell, it’d be a miracle if anyone was **alive** in my old neighborhood.”_

_“O-Oh! I'm sorry, I never knew you lived like that.”_

_“Don't be. Now that I'm at this school, I can at least live in a so-so environment.” Akane closed the book for a moment, looking directly up at the ceiling. “It's funny, Princess. You came all the way here to boring old Japan from a life of luxury. Little me would've killed ta be in your shoes; even for a day, y’know?”_

_Not quite expecting the statement, Sonia laughed half-heartedly before turning slightly away from Akane. The SHSL Gymnast lowered an eyebrow, wondering if she'd said anything wrong. Although her mind couldn't piece what she said, the look on Sonia's discontent face told her something might be eating the Princess._

_“What’d I say?” Akane asked._

_“Nothing offensive, worry not,” Sonia assured her, finally looking at Akane before laughing wryly. “It's just funny.”_

_“What is?”_

_“Typically, so many people see a life of royalty as flawless; a complete utopia where nothing can ever go wrong, even! But, you all couldn't be further from the truth!”_

_“Is bein’ a monarch harder than it looks? Don't ya just boss people around on a throne all day?”_

_“As if it were that simple! Just being a princess alone isn't some novice duty! Especially since it's a title that's stuck with you for all time! When you're constantly pressured for perfection, or to abide by certain rules, it can be a lot on your, erm… ‘plate’?” Sonia could feel herself grow more frustrated, taking deep breaths to bury the feeling in spite of her furrowed brows and angered eyes. “Add insult to injury, you finally get the chance to attempt a simpler life, only for everyone to stick the ‘naive blue blood foreigner’ label on you! Just when you think you can finally catch a break and live the common life for once… it all comes rushing back, doesn't it?”_

_To say Akane was expecting this would be a complete lie. Sonia panted after letting it all out, looking at Akane with eyes of shame. She recited a few words to herself, the Gymnast catching “think positive” and “still a Princess before a woman” twice, rubbing both temples and composing herself. Even after Sonia calmed down slightly, she was bewildered when she found Akane still staring._

_“I believe it's now my turn to ask the ‘what’,” Sonia said._

_“Sorry, I just didn't know you felt that bad about bein’ a Princess and all. A life like that just seemed like paradise ta me this whole time.”_

_“Oh, it’s not that I feel bad. Everything has a good side to it! Being royalty has its ‘perks’, as you say. It’s just… even from things like being molded into running a country since birth with a lineage label, you just wanna live a more simple life. Is that not normal?”_

_“I guess I can see where you’re comin’ from, Prince-- I mean, uhh… y’know. From what you’re sayin’, bein’ royalty be tough since it’s so nit-picky and all. When something’s just too much, I get that you’d wanna get away from it for somethin’ a lot better.”_

_“Yes, that’s… that’s completely it! Temporary challenges, they’re a slice of cake, of course! But, even some people have their limits. Sometimes, you just wanna move onto a life that's better.” Sonia looked at Akane with endearing, comfortable eyes that felt safe around her. “A life that's less lonely and overwhelming.”_

_“Yup,” Akane agreed, an open smile traversing her face as she looked right into Sonia's eyes. “And some people you meet out of almost nowhere just make it even better.”_

_“Indeed… Well, if that's out of the way, why don't we continue with this project. I’d be more than happy to hear more from you about these holidays!”_

_“Yeah, sure thing, Princess.”_

_“If you would please, refer to me as ‘Sonia’. I'm more than just the ‘Princess’, you know. If you permit me, I could start using your first name too!”_

_“I guess that's only fair, ain't it? Son… Sonia. Sounds kinda weird!”_

_Sonia giggled at Akane's adjustment of using her first name, opening a whole new book and exchanging studious culture facts with her. The girl with the shoulder-length hair still wanted nothing to do with a project she lacked motive for, but doing it alongside Sonia seemed to make the assignment among others less painful to bear._

_More time passed as the two now started spending their free time with the other on a frequent basis. Both girls at that point felt more than safe around each other, to the point where they were nearly inseparable. Others around them now uttered about how “bizarre” Akane was for lingering around the “stupid foreigner”, but neither girl had skin thin enough to care anymore. Instead, they kept to each other, where all was better and they were happy._

_At least… until a week Sonia remembered all too perfectly. The transpiring series of events would never let her live such moments down._

_Now, for the longest time, Sonia was certain what type of person she was “into”, as most put it. Unlike a lot of girls she'd been near, Sonia was always more drawn to the same sex, something she remembered that’d stirred some trouble in her Kingdom when she was just starting to acknowledge and accept it. It didn't take her long to realize it from her suffocating chest, overwhelming ecstasy, sweaty skin, rather “carnal” fantasies, and secret timidity brought on by only the safe haven of Akane Owari that a single conclusion was clear._

_It wasn't until the end of breakfast one particular Tuesday that Sonia decided to make such deep feelings known to Akane. Rather than overwhelm her directly, Sonia thought it was best to express it in a way she heard was traditional for her present region. During their final class that same day, Sonia wrote down in great detail everything her heart wanted to say to Akane her lips froze at._

_“‘And so, I hope you don't think any less of me from this… shocking confession.’,” Sonia uttered to herself as she wrote the words down on paper. “‘Yours and yours only, Sonia Nevermind.’”_

_While Akane was distracted and picking her ear, Sonia quickly folded the paper and stuffed it into the pink envelope, sealing it with a lick and a red heart sticker. Once the bell rang after class, everyone was too busy leaving to notice Sonia hand the love note to Akane, who only noticed it seconds after Sonia packed her stuff up. The Princess stayed behind, nervous beyond all comprehension as the Gymnast opened the letter, mouth making all sorts of shapes as she read it word for word. Akane's cheeks flushed a deep red, staring at Sonia after putting the letter down without any words._

_“Please… say something, Akane-san,” Sonia pleaded, hands holded and heels scuffing the floor._

_“I… Sonia, I don't know what ta say,” Akane admitted, scratching her head and looking down. “I really don't.”_

_“Y-Yes, you do! You know how you feel about me, but you don't want to say it!” Sonia's fists were clenched, her roseate face angry and scared. “So just say it already! How do you truly and honestly feel about me? I have very clear romantic feelings for you, but do you or do you not reciprocate?!”_

_“I-I… Sonia,” Akane stuttered, looking at the shaking Princess with fear. “Look, Son, I honestly don't know how to say this. I get how you feel about me, but--”_

_“--I understand,” Sonia interrupted, looking away tearfully and sick. “You could have just said you don't feel that way. It would have been more proper than just standing there!”_

_“Sonia, wait, you don't--”_

_“--Silence! I get that my feelings are one-sided, okay?! J-Just… just leave me alone!”_

_"But, Sonia--!"_

_"No! Go away, Akane! I don't want to see you!"_

_Without letting Akane speak anymore, Sonia bolted out the door in tears, abandoning her belongings in the classroom. The Princess kept running, her inconceivable embarrassment and heartbreak shattering the rest of her professional mask. She kept running, letting the sobs force more tears out of her messy face._

_“Motherfucker, son of a fucking bitch!” Sonia cursed through sobs, running throughout the city. “The one person who actually bothers to understand me and I fuck it up with my stupid feelings! I'm such a disgrace! She'll never look at me again, and it's all my fault!”_

_Sonia swore she heard a voice calling her name behind her, but the Princess ignored it and kept running from her shame. All of a sudden, a loud **BEEP** came directly from her side, Sonia turning a second too late as she felt a lot of pressure. The last thing that came to her was the feeling of her body making harsh contact, going flying into the road as pain silenced her body. A loud, bloodcurdling scream of her name went unheard by the unconscious Sonia, the girl it came from immediately going to her stagnant form._

_When Sonia felt anything again and came back to consciousness with an aching head and torso, her caked green eyes pushed themselves open to a blurry white light. Her vision cleared up, ears finally picking up on the sound of machine beeps and mournful sobs. Sonia's blanket was stained with tears, the girl they were coming from revealed to be Akane Owari, her presence now surprising Sonia completely._

_“Sonia, I'm so sorry!” Akane choked, sobs distorting her speech as she continued to bawl. “If you never wake up, it’ll be all my fault because I couldn't open my damn mouth! If… if I stopped you and told you I’ve got the same feelings, at least you wouldn't have run off and gotten hit!” Akane coughed, weak from her decreasing energy as she clutched the sheets with her head against the bed. “Wake up… I'm begging ya. I…”_

_“Akane-san…?” Sonia uttered weakly. “I'm okay…”_

_“Sonia!” Akane shouted, immediately snagging Sonia into a tight hug. “Oh God, it's a miracle! I thought you were gone for good!”_

_“Oww… no, I'm still here. Feels as though I’ve been run down by a truck.”_

_“Actually, it was more like a regular car, but who the hell cares! You're alive!” Akane shifted her eyes downward, biting her lip with pink cheeks over tan skin. “Look, Sonia. I wanted ta say I'm sorry about last week. I didn't--”_

_“--Last week?!” Sonia gasped. “I was out for that long?!”_

_“Yeah, you were pretty out of it. You have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here hopin’ you’d wake up!” Akane stopped herself, sighing as she leaned closer to Sonia. “Anyways, that's not what I wanna say to ya. Sonia, I know I should've told you then, and I’m not one ta get all mushy with this stuff. But, what I meant to tell you before, I--”_

_Sonia stopped Akane, giving the SHSL Gymnast a deep kiss on the lips with her hands on Akane's cheeks, the act reciprocated like her affections. After a few warm breaths were traded, the girls pulled back from their kiss and looked deep into each other’s eyes. Akane was both surprised and joyous, Sonia smiling all the more._

_“I heard what you said when I woke up,” Sonia announced. “I’d have gladly rewarded you if you’d just said you love me in return.”_

_“Yeah, I know. I guess I just choked because I was… scared. That's not something you just realize with a grain of salt, Son. I mean, I’m no love expert or anything, and I always thought I just liked guys, so--”_

_“--Akane, it's alright. There isn't any need to justify yourself. I want nothing more than to be with my one and only true companion.”_

_“Even if a few people talk shit about it? ‘Cause the second they do, I’d pummel ‘em! At least, assumin’ you… wanna actually go out?”_

_Sonia leaned her head in closer to Akane’s face, smiling all the way there as her racing heart added more blood to her roseate features. “Did you really have to ask, Akane? I think you know the answer.”_

_Pulling Akane the rest of the distance, Sonia rooted another deep kiss of passion onto the cherished lips, turning mutual rather quickly. Both heard footsteps, but didn’t stop their newfound union of love as they got louder and closer. The door opened, in coming assistant Nurse Mikan Tsumiki, who looked at her clipboard as she walked in on the romantic scene._

_“Nevermind-san, are you doing okay-- oh!” Mikan sputtered, watching the patient and visitor continue their kiss session, the plum-haired girl still not noticed even when both lovers pulled back. “I-I can c-come back later. Sorry to bother you two!”_

_Mikan quickly left the room, Sonia and Akane alone once again and acting as if no one entered. Their hearts leaped and pounded with ecstasy and relief, the blonde pulling the brunette into a tight embrace, nuzzling her face against Akane’s neck during the intimate process. Hands entwining in each other’s, Sonia’s smile creased up the fairly nervous Akane’s cheek, the Princess moving her head to her girlfriend’s shoulder as she allowed bliss to take over._

* * *

“...Sonia? Hey, Sonia!” Akane called, snapping her fingers in front of Sonia’s dazed and smiling face.

“Huh-nuh?!” Sonia squeaked, suddenly finding herself back in the reality that was the hotel restaurant. “Sorry, dearest. I was just lost in thought is all.”

“Well, get outta thought and pick!” Akane took the burgundy flip cell phone out of her shirt pocket, showing Sonia and herself a few entries predicted from the future. “Check this out! ‘10:35: No person in the world can name a single time where large plates of food with no consequence went wrong’.”

“Yes, and? What does that have to do with anything, Akane?”

“Check out the menu, babe. Right in the entree section.”

Sonia looked where Akane was describing, spotting a 60% off deal on all meals purchased within that block. Each of one was something delectable, enough to make Akane’s mouth water with desire. She took a few whiffs in the air, following her nose to several customers at one table enjoying an assortment of delicious foods.

“They know what’s up,” Akane breathed, enticed by the smell. “If we weren’t in a restaurant, I probably wouldn’t have guess it’d predict what I’m about ta order.”

“I guess that’s why you call it your ‘Spontaneous Diary’, darling,” Sonia giggled. “I take it you’re all set?”

“Yup! And you know the plan after we’re done eatin’!”

“That’s right! Send Fifth and Sixth right back to their maker or we’re royally screwed!” Sonia declared, gripping her bicep confidently. “They don’t stand a damn chance!”

“You know it, babe!” When the waiter came to the table, Akane immediately ordered her bountiful meal after Sonia told him what she wanted, the waiter nervously writing down the order before leaving to get it. “First things first. Get yer energy right up so we don’t die too soon!”

Looking at their Spontaneous and Thriller Diaries for more potential clues, Akane and Sonia kept hands linked together as they shut the phones and put them away safely. The very thought of their expected victories brought devious chuckles to both, discussing possibilities and what they believed would occur during the brawl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Godly Alignments (two!): Sonia Nevermind = Aphrodite/Venus (considered quite beautiful and popular in canon, plus has an unwanted suitor when they hang around another male); Owari Akane = Dionysus/Bacchus (both either partake in violence or provoke it. Plus, the Roman "Bacchus Cult" involved a lot of sexual themes, just like how Akane was sexually harassed in her past).
> 
> I know for a fact none of you were expecting this, but I really ship these two. Plus, it's a nice breath of fresh air from the stale white bread slice known as GunSon (though if it's your OTP, by all means keep doin' what you're doing). Also, Ares aside, Dionysus was a common lover of Aphrodite, the pair producing Priapus. Lastly, no one really remembers their affair, much like how SoniaKane isn't too common either.
> 
> Also, since Ishimaru and Mukuro are the story's equivalent of Yukiteru and Yuno (only healthier and less fucked up), Akane and Sonia are respectively the "Marco and Ai" of the story. Just letting you know!
> 
> Finally, I'm elated to finally say all 13 Diary Holders have been revealed! Because of it, I'll send a link to my magic "Diary Holder number selection" method (in terms of DH's, I align an Olympian with a befitting DR/SDR2 character). Heeere you go, you lovely people!: http://riordan.wikia.com/wiki/Cabins#Cabin_One:_Zeus.27_Cabin .


	29. Day 47 Part 2: A Forest Brawl Between Couples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> SHSL Guest: Okay, here's what I do:  
> Step 1: Pick a Greek God to make the alignments for.  
> Step 2: Choose a DR character that best fits with said God.  
> Step 3: Using the PJO cabins, assign a number rank to the Diary Holder.  
> For example: Picking Artemis/Diana; Mahiru fits pretty well with Artemis; Cabin 8 is the Artemis Cabin, so 'Hiru's the Eighth Diary Holder.  
> (Note: I know Cabin 4 is Demeter/Ceres and not Persephone/Proserpina, but I felt Demeter didn't quite fit with Chiaki so I made it her daughter instead. Chihiro was originally going to be Fourth and aligned with the Grain Goddess, but it wouldn't be a fair fight due to Ishimaru's Friendship Diary, so I thought of something better for Chihiro and replaced him with Chiaki.)
> 
> Anon: Oh, they're coming alright! Theeeeey're coming pretty soon. I don't think it'll be this chapter bc it's really short, but eh. Your mileage may vary from mine.

“KEI-AUGH!” Ishimaru exclaimed that afternoon, lowering a polished katana down onto Mukuro’s Fenrir knife, the girl herself blocking it.

“Be sure to get your opponent and deny them the chance to block!” Mukuro instructed, pulling her knife back as a few sparks flew from the clashing metals.

Ishimaru and Mukuro stood face-to-face, the latter charging at the former like a savage bull, knife in hand and ready to strike. Ishimaru deflected Mukuro's pretend stab with his katana, using a kendō tactic to knock the knife from her hand. Mukuro picked her blade up again, Ishimaru running at her with the sword in both hands as he shouted. He leaped up, lowering the long blade onto the short jagged one, Mukuro deflecting his attack as more sparks flew from scratched metal. When she least expected it, Ishimaru sweep-kicked Mukuro and sent her to the floor, pointing his katana blade at the girl with the utmost seriousness in his somewhat shaded eyes.

“The old sweep-kick strategy, hmm?” Mukuro wondered, smirking. “Unexpected, but useful.”

“What can I say?” Ishimaru chuckled, suddenly smiling as he took the sword from Mukuro's nose tip, “I only learned it from the absolute best.”

“Aww,” the flattered Mukuro crooned, pushing herself up and sheathing the Fenrir knife. “Okay, excellent work, Kiyotaka. I think at this rate, you're more than ready for Tenth and Twelfth!”

Ishimaru was more than proud to hear that from Mukuro. Such encouragement danced around in his head, increasing his confidence at fighting and defeating the final two Diary Holders. Slipping the katana back in his scabbard, Ishimaru thanked Mukuro for the training session and walked out with her and their pocketed Diaries.

The bell rang while Ishimaru and Mukuro walked in the hall, signifying the end of the shortened class schedule day. Both students looked at their clothes, which were cut and torn from all accidental slashes previously obtained. When they reached the Dormitory Wing, Ishimaru and Mukuro went to their individual bedrooms for a change of clothes.

“I really should be more wary of someone with a sharp object,” Ishimaru said to himself, stripping himself of his ripped training outfit. “I can't afford to ruin anymore outfits!”

Ishimaru adorned his body with what he could find for the time being. He pulled up a pair of gray shorts that fell to the top of his knees, and over his torso went a black short-sleeved shirt under a white open jacket with sleeves that stretched until the end of his bicep. Fastening a pair of calf-length black and white sneaker boots to his feet, Ishimaru stood up proudly and slipped the Disciplinary Committee armband onto his left arm. He removed the Friendship Diary from his tattered pants pocket and inserted it into the left of his shorts.

Ishimaru walked out from his bedroom, trying to work with the borrowed katana and attaching it to the side opposite of the Future Diary cell phone pocket. A freshly-cleaned Mukuro soon walked up near him, wearing a pair of camouflage pants over bright red-and-white sneakers with a plain black tank top instead of her usual white blouse and black skirt attire. Around her waist was tied by the sleeves a forest green hoodie, dangling idly as it anticipated Mukuro wearing it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take your armband off?” Mukuro asked, looking at Ishimaru’s left upper limb. “I know you abide by the whole ‘24/7 student’ code, but you are free to take some load off.”

“I’m trying to keep as much to my school uniform as possible while trying to preserve other copies. Perhaps for your sake, I’ll wear something else next time.”

“That’s your decision entirely, Kiyotaka. Don’t do something you feel isn’t right for my sake.”

Ishimaru rolled his lip against his teeth, Mukuro’s words bringing up something unrelated, yet crucial in his mind. Without allowing himself to alarm her that there was still a secret eating him internally, Ishimaru nodded in agreement while saying he didn’t mind doing so. Mukuro, refusing to press on and bother him, agreed with Ishimaru’s choice.

“What would you like to do today?” Ishimaru asked. “Maybe go to the library and catch up on our assignments? We are ‘study buddies’ after all!”

“Well, I was actually thinking of going out today,” Mukuro confessed. “It’s quite warm out, and something along the lines of a ‘park trip’ might be a perfect way to spend it.”

“Trips to the park are nice. And if that’s not satisfying, we can always do something near there. Would you like to go now, Mukuro?”

“Yes. And who knows? We might just put our rehearsed combat skills to the test if we’re lucky.”

“Do you really think we’ll encounter Tenth and Twelfth?”

“It’s possible.” Mukuro walked ahead of Ishimaru towards the entrance, turning back and calling for him. “Well, come on! The park’s not gonna visit itself!”

Ishimaru picked up the pace slightly, catching up and following Mukuro out of the school. The warm sun and mild heat greeting them both, two pairs of feet carrying the two students down the sidewalk and towards the nearby park situated two or so blocks from Hope’s Peak Academy. When they arrived, the area was filled with plenty of people looking to take the afternoon to relax and socialize, along with lots of couples spending time with each other.

“It is beautiful out today,” Ishimaru commented, looking at Mukuro with a loving gaze.

“Quite so, Kiyotaka,” Mukuro agreed, smiling right back.

Ishimaru and Mukuro moved along the sidewalk, staying close to each other. They noticed some people taking strolls through the lush park with their hands linked, eyes satiated by the visual contact of their counterpart pair. A few pairs even sat on the bench, initiating in public physical contact acts such as head leans and lip kissing, something that made Ishimaru flinch somewhat while Mukuro remained indifferent. The Hall Monitor did glance at the Soldier, but only for a brief moment when she looked at his florid features.

“Is there a problem?” Mukuro asked with a raised brow. “You’ve been acting strange since Sunday.”

“No, there’s no problem with me, Mukuro!” Ishimaru half-lied, “I’m perfectly normal!”

Mukuro looked over at what Ishimaru was glancing at, letting out an “Ah” as she saw his point. “I get it, you’re uncomfortable with the PDA,” Mukuro guessed. “You could have just said something and I’d oblige to move on.”

“Well, you could say that. You see--”

Ishimaru was cut off by a loud barking, the excited Akita rushing right past him after a squirrel with the leash in tow. Its charge made Ishimaru start to lose his balance, the remaining stance completely gone after the frantic owner shoved past him with a “Sorry! Coming through!” to catch their dog. Before he could fall over, Mukuro grabbed him with both hands by the back, pulling Ishimaru up halfway in a pseudo-dipping pose. The two students established eye contact with each other after their surprise died down, noticeable blushes permeating through their facial flesh. Mukuro had her teeth completely closed, the thought of releasing Ishimaru forgotten as Ishimaru himself had parted lips and starry eyes.

“Are you… okay now, Taka?” Mukuro questioned, finally regaining enough sense to help him completely up.

“Never better,” Ishimaru laughed, standing back on his boots as he failed to notice his hand was still in Mukuro's from the lift. “That could have been quite a fall had you not helped me, Muki!”

“Oh, how adorable!” a passerby old lady crooned, looking on at the scene. “Young love is so beautiful.”

“I beg your pardon, ma’am?” Ishimaru pondered, a thick eyebrow raised.

“Now now, there’s no need to pretend to not know, dearie! You and your adorable girlfriend remind me of my dear Kaname! Ah, how I miss him so.” The old lady leaned in close, her squinting eyes aligned with Ishimaru’s. “Now you listen here. You’d better make that girl happy if you wanna stay with her! Pretty soon, you might just have to make an honest woman out of her!”

“Why? Is Mukuro a liar?” Ishimaru asked the question with genuine confusion, the first time hearing such an expression.

“Hoo hoo! He’s a keeper! Well, I should be going now. You two have fun now!”

The old lady scampered off about her merry way, leaving behind an awkward atmosphere for the roseate Ishimaru and Mukuro. Both looked at each other and laughed about such a silly misunderstanding, continuing their own walk through the sunny park. Despite the laughs they shared, the two still glanced at each other with affectionate smiles, continuing the walk without noticing their hands were still being held by the other party.

* * *

Somewhere else in the park, Sonia was waiting on Akane, who was still neck-deep in an argument with a guy running a local ice cream stand. Both were making a commotion, Akane furiously pointing to her desired flavor while the vendor kept angrily objecting. Sonia tried calmly getting Akane to stop, even to the point of reaching into her purse for money, but her words went ignored by the Gymnast as she kept bartering.

“C’mon, just lower it ta ¥300!” Akane begged, “What’s a little ¥200 less?”

“Ma’am, for the last time, no!” the vendor barked. “Either you buy the ice cream for 500, or you and your little girlfriend aren’t getting squat!”

“Akane, I can just pay for--” Sonia started.

“--That ain’t necessary, Sonia!” Akane growled, cracking her knuckles at the vendor. “In a few seconds, this guy’s gonna _wish_ he said yes earlier!”

The ice cream vendor got scared as Akane approached him. Just as the Gymnast was about to quite literally knock some sense into the seller, Sonia’s Thriller Diary sounded off an interference noise, the Princess immediately pulling Akane back right before she could swing her fist all the way through. When the vendor wheeled off with his cart, never to return, Akane growled in annoyance at seeing him leave.

“Aww, babe, I almost had him!” Akane complained. “The coward…”

“Later, darling. For now, look at this!” Sonia told her, opening her emerald green Thriller Diary cell phone. “‘13:52 [The Park]: The princess and her only beloved have a surprise encounter with the killers, who appear as two mere commoners amongst the people.’,” she read from her phone.

“Killers, killers…” Akane pondered before coming to a conclusion. “Fifth and Sixth are here?! At the park?!”

“They must be. My Diary can only pick up on certain ‘scary plots’ and ‘cliches’. Sort of like all my favorite horror movies!” Sonia became excited from her Diary’s relation to the suspenseful genre.

“At least then we’ll know more than the actors in the movie. Where are Fifth and Sixth, anyways?”

“Hmm, it says they’re among the crowd, so they could be anybody. But! Be on the lookout for a chance--”

Sonia couldn’t finish her sentence and walk with Akane at the same time when she accidentally collided with someone else. Rubbing her head, she looked at where the other person was to apologize. But the minute she looked at the freckled girl with black hair, Sonia realized her prediction had come true at the appointed time.

“My apologies, Miss,” Mukuro said. “I wasn't looking where I was going.”

“No, it's quite alright,” Sonia insisted. “A common mistake to be made.”

“So, you must be one of the Di--” Akane started until Sonia covered her mouth.

“--Hard park goers!” Sonia concluded as a cover-up. “This is such a nice park and you must come here often, no?”

“I wouldn't really say that. I'm only here with a, umm, friend of mine. I wonder where he is?”

“Mukuro! Mukuro, wherever are you?” Ishimaru called, running ahead and to Mukuro when he spotted her.

“I'm here, Kiyotaka. Sorry about running off.”

“Oh, so your names are ‘Kiyotaka’ and ‘Mukuro’?” Sonia questioned.

“Indeed, ma’am! I am Kiyotaka Ishimaru, and this delightful lady next to me is Mukuro Ikusaba!”

“Enchanted to meet you both. I'm Sonia Nevermind, and this is my beloved, Akane Owari.”

“Hey,” was all Akane said, smiling lightly and waving.

“It's nice to meet the both of you!” Ishimaru responded happily, shaking both girls’ hands.

“Yeah… it is,” Akane agreed half-heartedly. “Look, uhh… Ishidaki or whatever, we gotta go! We’ll see ya later, though!”

“Ishida-- erm, that's ‘Ishimaru’, Owari-kun--”

Before Ishimaru could object any further, Sonia and Akane hurried off. Shrugging, he left again with Mukuro, conversing about how nice the aging day was. Unbeknownst to them, they’d passed a hiding Sonia and Akane, who looked on at them with glaring eyes.

“How’re we gonna get rid of ‘em?” Akane asked, cracking her knuckles again. “I say we just beat the crap outta them!”

“Now, dearest, that's far too risky. We need a more tactical way of killing them without them retaliating.”

“Then we'll split up and take ‘em on personally!”

“Still not a good idea. See?” Sonia showed Akane a prediction reading “14:28 [Dark Woods]: The attractive love interest tries to take on the murderer Fifth by herself, but lacks the proper back up for a fruitful brawl”. “Which is why we need to go by this prediction instead.”

Akane followed Sonia's finger, which pointed to the earlier entry “14:05 [Creek Bridge]: Both killers stand idly next to only each other, oblivious to how susceptible they are to danger.”. Akane checked her own Spontaneous Diary, which had an entry of its own saying “14:05: Not many people would expect a whole bunch of trees all over the place. Anyone who climbs it’ll just fall out.”. Springing an idea, Akane showed the entry to her girlfriend, who started reaching into the large purse she'd brought with her.

“I knew this would come in handy,” Sonia giggled, taking out several separate pieces and putting them together.

“Whatcha got there, Sonia?” Akane asked until Sonia finished putting her device together, brown eyes widening at what the grinning Princess had with her. “A crossbow?! Where the hell did you get a goddamn crossbow?!”

“Mother and Father wanted to ensure my safety when I first came to your country, so they packed it in my suitcase.”

“Babe, you’ve got some crazy folks. Not that I'm complaining; this is perfect! You sure I shouldn't just beat their skulls in?”

“No need, my love. A few shots, and they’ll be eliminated faster than their Diaries will pick up on it!”

“Nice, Sonia! Beneath that princess-y face must be some kinda mastermind!”

Giggling, Sonia went in for another kiss on the lips from Akane, pulling apart after a few good seconds. Following instructions from their Thriller and Spontaneous Diaries, Sonia and Akane walked further into the park to track down their targets. Sonia made absolute sure to keep the crossbow out of others’ sight, making up excuses if she was ever spotted.

* * *

Within the park, Ishimaru and Mukuro strolled alongside each other, the warm sun and air brightening their moods alongside wanted company. They found a nice little bridge over the creek, lush green trees surrounding the atmosphere while bystanders tended to their own whims. Both students looked down below, the creek’s serene waters flowing through and making low trickling sounds all the more pleasant to the human ears. A few ducks swam along the stream, their offspring following the parents in one path.

“Where one duck goes, its young follows,” Mukuro commented. “Without the one they love most around, they would surely be lost.”

“That can be applied to… other things,” Ishimaru added, looking right at Mukuro with a guilty blush.

“Ah, that’s quite true, Taka.” Mukuro glanced at him, giving the Hall Monitor a genuine smile of her own. She unconsciously grabbed ahold of Ishimaru's hand, only noticing when he flinched.

“Mukuro, you--!” Ishimaru stuttered.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot about your PDA rule, Kiyotaka.”

Just when Ishimaru started to consider grasping Mukuro's soft hand back, the freckled ex-mercenary let go as a ruddy color flooded her face. More thoughts buzzed in his head, all about possible things he could say to Mukuro. When one harsh truth came back in his mind, Ishimaru kept it buried further without letting it cross his thoughts any further. Instead, Ishimaru brought his mind back further to yet another truth to reveal to Mukuro.

 _“I never did get to say anything during our amusement park trip,”_ Ishimaru thought. _“Perhaps if I get it out now, I can have a clear conscience!”_

“So, what have you enjoyed about the park so far?” Mukuro asked.

“I'm perfectly fine with just the walks and sunny weather,” Ishimaru answered. “More importantly, Mukuro! There is… something you must know. I’ve been keeping it a secret for some time now!”

“Is it another training request? Because that's an automatic yes if it is.”

“No, it's different. I'm just not too sure how to put it. Mukuro…”

From a large tree behind them, Akane pushed the crossbow-bearing Sonia up until she was shrouded in a leafy barrier. Akane followed suit, laying next to her girlfriend while she aimed the weapon at Ishimaru and Mukuro.

“Ya got it positioned yet, babe?” Akane asked.

“Nearly there… ah!” Sonia exclaimed quietly, the bolt pointing straight at her nervous and unsuspecting targets. “One shot, and we’ll have a brand new kingdom to call our own, Akane!”

“C’mon, shoot ‘em! What’re you waitin’ for?”

“...So, Mukuro,” Ishimaru continued in the distance, facing the girl with a ruddy face and scratching his head. “There is something in all of this that I’d like to finally tell you.”

“Well, I'm listening,” Mukuro breathed, face just as ruddy and hopeful. “Go ahead and say it.”

“M-Mukuro Ikusaba! Ever since I've received your undeserved compassion and companionship, I want to finally tell you that I--”

Mukuro silenced Ishimaru the minute she heard her Tactics Diary update its prophecies. She flipped it open, discovering a new prediction reading “14:05: Tenth fires a crossbow at Kiyotaka while hidden with Twelfth. Push him directly to his left.” right before “14:07: Tenth attempts a few more shots. Exit the bridge with Kiyotaka by running forward to the picnic field’s large gazebo.”. Upon hearing a swift _SHK_ , Mukuro pushed Ishimaru to the left, the crossbow bolt striking the bridge instead.

“Mukuro, what's gotten into you?” Ishimaru questioned. “What did your Diary say?”

“Take a look for yourself,” Mukuro stated, showing Ishimaru her cell phone screen.

“A crossbow?! Also, two Diary Holders are here?! Where are they?!” Ishimaru bolted his head back and forth, scanning the area with hawkish eyes.

“I'm not sure, but we need to-- LOOK OUT!”

A barrage of crossbow bolts fired at Ishimaru and Mukuro, the latter jumping off of the former and pulling him across the struck bridge as they sprinted away. Mukuro kept running with Ishimaru until both reached a picnic grove in the park where a large gazebo was in the middle. She took advantage of the object and told Ishimaru to get inside and stay low, herself doing the same.

“So much for a normal day of walking in the park,” Ishimaru sighed, peeking upwards once to see if anyone suspicious was coming.

“Thankfully, we’re in the same area as our opponents,” Mukuro commented. “All we have to do is get rid of them and we’ll be Diary Holder-free for good.”

“Oh, that’s right! But, how do we know who Tenth and Twelfth are?”

“Try and be as perceptive as you can. One little word or future static can give someone away.”

Ishimaru and Mukuro poked their heads upward, shooting back down when they saw two figures walking in that direction from a distance. They placed their ears to the wall, listening in on the two for any information. At first, only footsteps and murmurs were heard from them, but one little conversation gave a huge push forward.

“See? Told ya we should’ve used my idea!” Akane groused. “We lost ‘em!”

“Okay, so the crossbow idea wasn’t that much of a success,” Sonia sighed. “But! I’m sure if we keep using our heads, we’re bound to think of something!”

“Let's see what my Diary’s gotta say about it.”

Akane read to herself an entry saying “14:15: The dark can be pretty terrifying, but no one knows what happens in it.”, trying to piece together what it meant. Thankfully, Sonia showed her an entry taking place two minutes after describing an area related to where Akane’s phone predicted. When the girls ran off to the dark spot beneath the woods nearby, Ishimaru and Mukuro came out of their gazebo hiding place to see they’d left.

“So, it’s them,” Ishimaru realized, hand moving to his katana.

“Yup,” Mukuro agreed, following Akane and Sonia with her comrade. “Come on, they can’t go too far.”

By the time Ishimaru and Mukuro had reached the woods, Akane and Sonia were nowhere to be seen. But, thanks to the SHSL Hall Monitor’s Friendship Diary, Ishimaru was able to pinpoint where their opponents had gone. Soon, both found a two-story hut behind a grove of trees, going inside at Mukuro's word. Scavenging around the creaky building, both heard voices from the upper level.

“Fifth and Sixth are here,” Sonia said to Akane. “Be prepared for anything those two have to throw at us!”

“Whatever they’ve got, I'm more than ready for it!” Akane roared with confidence. “‘Specially since I’m fightin’ with you babe!”

“Hee, oh, Akane…”

A slight smacking of two lips were heard with two low croons of pleasure, the sound stopping when Ishimaru and Mukuro ran up the stairs and entered the room. Not an instance of light was present, Ishimaru and Mukuro faced with only slight creaking noises from footsteps. Both pulled their sharp weapons out seconds before the lights flipped back on, revealing Akane and Sonia confident while holding both hands and Future Diaries.

“So, you guys made it!” Akane exclaimed. “Now, we can finish this for good!”

“And we're certain we know who the winners will be!” Sonia declared confidently.

“Really now?” Ishimaru wondered rhetorically, levering his eyebrow. “And just what makes you different from the other seven we’ve killed?”

“It’s obvious! What makes us different is…” Sonia started before presenting herself and her phone before her opponents. “Sonia Nevermind! The Tenth and bearer of the Thriller Diary!”

“Akane Owari! The Twelfth and the one who uses the Spontaneous Diary!” Akane declared, doing the same.

“When we’re together…” both girls said in unison, Akane pulling Sonia close and sharing a deep mutual kiss with her before keeping the Princess in a forward embrace. “Our love’s alliance is the strongest!”

“I see,” Mukuro inquired indifferently, removing her Fenrir knife from its sheathe. “Let’s settle this and see if you’ll still be saying that once we add you to the kill list.”

“Fine,” Akane agreed, cracking her knuckles. “Strongest couple gets ta be God!”

Although the word “couple” was somewhat off putting for Ishimaru and Mukuro both, the two focused on the fight once Ishimaru slid the katana out of his scabbard. Sonia loaded her crossbow, aiming with one hand as Akane braced her fists.

The first strike was fired by Sonia in the form of a crossbow bolt, which was dodged by the SHSL Hall Monitor it’d been aimed at. Ishimaru tried to make a sharp swing at Akane with his katana, only for one of his moving arms to be punctured by a bolt.

“Here's an opening!” Akane exclaimed, running forward and punching Ishimaru in the stomach until he went flying towards the wall.

“Taka!” Mukuro gasped, about to run over to him until Akane stopped her.

“And where do ya think you're going?!” Akane shouted, swinging a leg at Mukuro until she caught it at the last second. “Gah! Sonia, fire!”

At that command, Sonia loaded another bolt on her crossbow. Aiming it straight at Ishimaru, she pulled the trigger and watched it fly. Ishimaru prepared to deflect it with his blade, only for Mukuro to step in and swipe her own across it, cutting the bolt right in two.

“Don't worry, I have you covered,” Mukuro assured Ishimaru before turning to their opponents with a cold glare and a raised knife. “If you want Kiyotaka, you're gonna have to get through me first.”

“That can be arranged!” Akane roared, charging like a mad animal towards Mukuro, ready to inflict another attack.

“Kiyotaka, take care of Tenth!” Mukuro told him, blocking Akane’s punch by kicking her away. “Twelfth is mine!”

“Sonia, get outta here!” Akane exclaimed, getting Mukuro off of her and going in for another kick. “Make sure Sixth doesn’t get in the way!”

“Wait, Akane, won’t you--” Sonia began with worry, backing away from Ishimaru.

“--I’ll live, babe, I’ll live! Remember, do I look like someone you can doubt?” Akane asked the question while grabbing Mukuro by the arm, flipping her forwards until she slammed into the wall back-first.

“No, I do believe in you, my dearest one. Just… be careful while I’m away!”

“You can count on me, Sonia! There ain’t nothin’ ta doubt me for!”

Sonia loaded a crossbow bolt, firing it directly into Ishimaru’s thigh and making a run for it while he clasped the punctured limb through his shorts. He braced up before yanking the bolt from his thigh, summoning plenty of strength to give chase to the runaway Sonia with the drawn katana in both hands. Mukuro saw Ishimaru chase Sonia away from the woods when she looked out the window from a distance. When Akane approached her, Spontaneous Diary in hand, she stood strong and drew out her jagged Fenrir knife.

“Nowhere ta go, Fifth,” Akane growled with a vicious smile, cracking her knuckles yet again. “Just you and me!”

“Exactly what I was hoping for,” Mukuro said stoically, getting closer to Akane with the blade. “I’ll just finish you off first before I go after your little girlfriend.”

“You ain’t gonna do _shit_ ta Sonia! Not while I’m still around!”

Akane dodged Mukuro's charge and knife swipe by bending backwards, flipping her Spontaneous Diary open and reading a few predictions of random sentences. One read “14:25: Knives are sharp as hell. No one with a brain wants to get cut by them when they're too close.” and the proceeding one of “14:30: The woods are creepy, but there are probably hundreds of people who can use it to climb higher.”. Looking back, Akane bent backwards from Mukuro's second attempt on her life, kicking her to the floor as the Gymnast leapt out the window and right into the woods.

Dashing through the forest environment, Akane was still holding her dark red Spontaneous Diary and reading it, finding the tallest tree available and climbing up with ease. In the treetop, Akane heard the sound of footprints running through the woods, belonging of course to her pursuer. Whilst hiding, Akane read more predictions, face falling with annoyance at what she got.

“‘14:35: Someone's always looking for you, no matter how much you hardly see them.’,” Akane read quietly. “‘14:40: Squirrels eat acorns up like they're nothing, but they're the real nuts around.’ Ugh, what do squirrels have to do with anything?!”

Next, Akane's eyes picked up on the prediction “14:45: Arguably, your body's most sensitive part is the face. Anything that happens there hurts.”, seeing no important value to it whatsoever. Just then, scurrying up to Akane's ankle was a squirrel, who started crawling up her thigh. In response, Akane tried shaking off the unwanted critter furiously, only for it to not let go.

“Oi, get off, will ya?!” Akane barked, shaking her leg and the branches she was on.

Suddenly, everything below Akane shook more, snapping and sending her screaming to the ground with a loud scream. By the time she landed below, the squirrel was thankfully gone, but Mukuro had spotted her right away.

“Twelfth!” she shouted, running towards Akane. “I’ve got you now!”

“Gah, that goddamn squirrel!” Akane groused, running away from Mukuro for more time.

Despite her miraculous speed, Akane was caught up to by Mukuro, who attempted another thrust of the knife at Akane. Due to the Twelfth Diary Holder moving, the knife only severed the top layer of Akane's arm, blood flowing from her new wound. Enduring the soreness and pain, Akane swung her fist forward, slugging Mukuro directly in the face as the Diary implied. Once the Soldier was tending to her punctured and bleeding face, Akane took the time to bolt out and climb up another tree for a different attack. Whilst in the plant, however, the Spontaneous Diary made a loud interference sound, updating its future.

“What now?” Akane wondered until growing horrified. “‘14:50: Owari Akane is fatally stabbed in the chest by Ikusaba Mukuro. DEAD END.’?! Ah shit, already?!” Akane looked around below her, seeing no trace of the Soldier. “But where the hell is she? Fifth was just--”

Before she knew it, Akane felt a hand in the tree grab her by the neck, the SHSL Gymnast struggling in the tight hold as a wrapped arm took its hand’s place. Shifting her eyes back, she saw only the phlegmatic and emotionally numb Mukuro, who made the constricted Akane's eyes widen when she pulled out her Fenrir knife out and positioned it to the front.

“Ah, shit,” Akane sighed, looking at the raised knife with growing defeat. “Sonia ain't gonna be too happy about this…”

* * *

Somewhere in the city, Ishimaru finally had Sonia cornered, his blue blood opponent out of places to hide within secluded city parts. The Princess bravely pulled out her loaded crossbow, Ishimaru creeping closer to Sonia with an open katana. Sonia's emerald eyes showed no fear, even as Ishimaru's darkened with malice.

“Do your worst, Sixth,” Sonia said.

“My only intention, Tenth,” Ishimaru snarled.

All of a sudden, Sonia's Thriller Diary rang out a loud static, its owner opening the phone to see what was the matter. Eyes once strong and fearless now widened with horror at a single prediction. She pushed past Ishimaru, making another chase as Sonia bolted to the woods in a panic.

“Akane!” Sonia proclaimed, running as fast as her heeled feet could take her. “Hold on, my love, I'm coming!”

With the armed Ishimaru in tow, Sonia hurried to the woods within the park. Once deep within the forest’s environment, she alternated between looking for her lover and the grim prediction she’d hoped wouldn’t come true. Not only that, but Sonia looked back every now and again to make sure Ishimaru wouldn’t catch up and end her unexpectedly. What made her stop was the sound of the Sixth Diary Holder’s voice, full of surprised relief.

“Mukuro! You’ve survived!” Ishimaru pointed out as he ran a little closer in sight, looking straight at the trudging ex-mercenary.

“Yes, Kiyotaka, it’s relieving to see you’re alright as well,” Mukuro added, dragging something heavy by the arm. “At least another thing went right today.”

Ishimaru and Sonia looked onward, the large object Mukuro was dragging coming to light. To the Hall Monitor’s delight and the Princess’ shattering heart of stricken grief, Mukuro remorselessly dropped the body of Akane Owari, removing the blood-stained Fenrir knife from a deep wound in the Gymnast’s thoracic cavity. Mukuro glanced once at the shocked and teary-eyed Sonia falling to her knees over by Akane’s corpse, brushing it off as she walked out with Ishimaru.

Sonia let thickened tears fall from her runny green eyes, the salted water dripping onto Akane’s lifeless tanned face. When she looked at her lover’s body longer, the realization that her worst nightmare had come true, Sonia let out a bloodcurdling wail of mournful pain, burying her face drenched with tear blobs into Akane’s shirt. No slight rise-and-fall rhythm was felt by the Princess, which made her bawl harder. The Thriller Diary fell to the soft grass when Sonia lifted Akane’s corpse into her arms, rocking it back and forth slightly as she let more sobs escape. Sonia looked down at her phone with the same eyes drenched with the tears that made her face runny, picking it up and reading back the worst prediction received.

“‘14:50 [Dark Woods]: The attractive love interest falls victim to a mortal stab from the killer with freckles.’,” Sonia sniffled, reading the prediction aloud before closing her phone screen using her thumb.

Stuffing the device in the front of her dress, Sonia looked down at Akane’s blood-stained body with tightened, tear-tired eyes. More of the salted clear liquid dropped from the Princess’ eyes to the wound below, sobs rumbling and ripping apart at Sonia’s insides. Her tearing gaze wouldn’t remove itself from Akane, the emerald within growing sharper as Sonia’s morose heart now stung with another feeling clawing restlessly. Gripping the stained white shirt of her deceased lover, Sonia’s eyes furrowed completely, teeth baring as she set her mind on the Fifth and Sixth Diary Holders.

“It won’t go down like this…” Sonia snarled, vengeful tears streaming down her face. “Not while I’m around!”

* * *

Another three or so hours passed, Ishimaru and Mukuro walked down the streets together, the latter munching on some delicious melon bread and reveling at its saccharine fruity taste. She levered it over to Ishimaru as an offering, only for the Hall Monitor to put a hand in front of it and politely shake his head no with a smile. Shrugging, Mukuro continued to consume her doughy pleasure, chewing and swallowing to allow herself speech.

“Only a matter of time until it’s just us,” Mukuro spoke.

“I know,” Ishimaru agreed. “It feels as though it was only yesterday we fought Seventh in the hospital.”

“Time sure flies, doesn’t it? At least neither of us will have to worry about who gets the throne.”

Ishimaru nearly bit his tongue at Mukuro’s assumption, heart racing with anxiety when he remembered something he didn’t want to. He looked at her, the Soldier raising a worried eyebrow when she saw the look on Ishimaru’s face. A few sweat beads poured down his face, shifting his eyes back and forth ever so slightly as Mukuro kept looking at him.

“Kiyotaka, what’s wrong?” Mukuro asked after eating the rest of her melon bread, “You look as though you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“It’s nothing, Muki, I promise!” Ishimaru lied. “We’ve had quite a day, so why don’t we start heading back?”

“I suppose so.” A slight filling came to Mukuro’s lower region, bits of pink coming to her cheeks as her eyes locked on the closest building. “But first, I must use the bathroom.”

“Oh! Okay, I’ll wait for you out here, Mukuro.”

Mukuro bolted through the door of the selected building, Ishimaru sitting down on the bench in front of it to await his friend. From the nearby alleyway, he heard some voices exchanging an odd conversation, but ignored it as he checked the door for Mukuro’s form. All of a sudden, Ishimaru felt someone grip a palm around his mouth, preventing any speech or shouts of distress. Then, he felt something akin to a needle jab itself into his neck, the sharp pain replaced by a growing sensation of numbness as the side of the cervical area filled with some strange liquid. The liquid dispersed itself through Ishimaru’s veins, his new numb feeling possessing him until his eyes fell shut and welcomed a new pitch black sight.

After flushing the toilet and cleansing her hands of any unwanted germs, Mukuro left the bathroom and building altogether. However, instead of being greeted by the smiling face of Kiyotaka Ishimaru, her eyes couldn’t locate any trace of her friend anywhere. Instead, she came across a bench with a note taped to it.

“Did Taka write this?” Mukuro wondered, picking up the paper and reading the eloquent penmanship to herself. “‘To the wretched murderer known as ‘Fifth’, you seem to be quite keen on taking someone’s love away from them, eh? Well, let’s see how you like it when I kill your pathetic boyfriend right in front of you tonight! I am generous enough to tell you that there’s a _slight_ chance of stopping me. If you can locate the items on the back of this note and end my life, then your lover will be safe and sound. From the moment you finish reading this, you have until midnight on the dot, or Sixth gets it!’” Mukuro nearly gripped the note to death when she saw who sent the note, eyes creasing downwards with anger. “ _Tenth_! I swear, if that girl so much as _touches_ Kiyotaka, I’ll--!”

Gritting her teeth, Mukuro tried cooling herself down while flipping the ransom note over for the clues. Looking at the first meaningful hint and the current time on her Tactics Diary, she followed given instructions and bolted down the sidewalk. Heart racing from the acceleration and fear, Mukuro set her mind on her new mission objectives, beyond determined not to fail it.


	30. Day 47 Part 3: Tenth's Murderous Revenge Of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment response:
> 
> SHSL Guest: Oooh, you got someone to read? That's wonderful! Tell them to share their thoughts on this story in the comments! Also, I have noticed how much Ishimaru has changed since Ch. 2. Not sure if it counts as character development, but it's certainly something!
> 
> WARNING, HUUUGE WARNING:  
> The parts near the end of this chapter gets pretty gruesome, especially the end of the DH fight. If you're anything like me and unnerved by stuff like that, then please read at your own discretion. This mostly applies to the DH fight verdict; I deeply apologize if it's a sensitive topic to you guys too. So please, read at your own risk and skip over it if it makes you uncomfortable or panicky.

Somewhere within the city’s depths, a rickety and desolate church lay behind police tape and signs labelled “condemned”. Dormant construction machines surrounded the fragile sanctuary of dust, no one aware of what lied within. A few passerby citizens of youth swore they heard slight sounds from within, but left it be and perceived it as an auditory illusion.

Little did anyone know, the murmurs and low chuckles of malice were no trick. Within the languishing chapel lied Sonia Nevermind, adorning a black widow’s veil and equally colored long cloak over her emerald dress. The sniveling and heartbroken Princess leaned her head on the table in front, hundreds of red roses spread throughout the wood. Atop the assortment was none other than the retrieved corpse of Akane Owari, her black glove-covered hands folded under her bust while her eyes were finally shut forever. Beside the table of repose was a large portrait of Akane’s face, the top draped with two black ribbons of mourning.

“My one and only; taken from me so horribly,” Sonia sniffled, lifting the veil to wipe some tear-infused mascara marks smudged on her face. She stroked Akane's chilling forehead gently, running a hand through her chestnut locks. “Our goals, our love… our future! All of it--”

Looking upwards, Sonia caught the sight of a new addition to her grim sanctuary. Her bite-sore frown of grief slowly became a slight smirk, made darker by the complete dimming of her green eyes. Sonia stepped forward one step by another, finally approaching the borderline-comatose Ishimaru, who was forced into a kneeling position by the wall chain clamps holding his wrists up. Sonia tipped his sagging head upwards, looking right into the dead coloring of Ishimaru’s formerly vibrant crimson eyes.

“That must have been some high quality tranquilizer,” Sonia remarked, leaving an unfeeling pinch in Ishimaru’s chin with her nails before letting his head sag against his breastbone again. “Worry not, Sixth. Your knight will be here soon. And when she comes…!”

Instead of finishing her sentence verbally, Sonia inserted several bullets into a black handgun, closing the barrel and waving it in front of the drugged Hall Monitor. Again did Ishimaru fail to respond, allowing Sonia to giggle to herself as her laughter turned to maddened cackles, placing the gun somewhere safe and sitting down in front of Akane’s corpse to look out for Mukuro. From the floor she picked up a gray walkie-talkie, turning it on and looking at new predictions on her opened up Thriller Diary to kick off her master plan.

* * *

Meanwhile, Mukuro kept running through the city, looking for the first item on Sonia’s ransom note. When she came across a local coffee shop, she remembered the address hinted at on the paper. Looking between it and the shop, Mukuro hurried inside. With a hasty mind, the Soldier searched all around for her item.

“Urgh, what's the note say again?” Mukuro wondered, reading it off one more time. “‘In a little drink shop of 530 lies an important set of dates within a shelved assortment.’. Is there a shelf nearby?”

Thankfully, it only took a few turns of the head to find a single shelf leaning against the left wall. Mukuro went over, skimming up and down until she found a calendar, shifting through it for a clue. She discovered that instead of the usual listing of the twelve months, the calendar only described common Japanese holidays, among them ones celebrated during Golden Week in place of May. On a page for Valentine’s Day where February would be, Mukuro found a neatly written note by Sonia, reading “Item 01 has been found. A holiday project made from true love and hard work”. Mukuro noticed something bulging under the page, flipping it over to March’s White Day report to find a small speaker, which activated almost immediately.

“So, you’ve already found the first item,” Sonia’s voice said from the black round speaker. “By the way, Fifth, did you get my hidden joke? You found something that typically has a lot of dates in a place where Akane and I had our first one! Funny, is it not?” Sonia paused, tone growing more bitter, yet confident. “Anyways, don’t get too confident now. After the next clue, you won’t be having such a nice time, now will you?”

With a hang up of the walkie-talkie, Mukuro looked at the next item on the ransom note, reading each part word for word. She checked the time on the shop’s wall clock, hurrying out at the alert of having five hours left to rescue her loved one. Mukuro bolted past rushing and screeching cars, apologizing to the angry complaints and beeps until she made it to the next sidewalk. She kept running and running, her feet carrying her down the street and stopping in front of an arts and crafts store. Entering, Mukuro searched around for the next item around the larger building, sifting through a river of customers frisking to purchase cheap art supplies.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Mukuro called upon an employee. “Do you know where I can find your scented goods?”

“Ah, those are rather popular today,” the employee giggled, guiding Mukuro to the back of the store where a herd of buyers were. “Here you are.”

“Thank you. Your aid is appreciated.”

Although the human barrier was strong, Mukuro managed to push herself to the inventory, lucky enough to find a plethora of items matching the description on her paper. She skimmed through the row for a particular basket, stopping when she found one that wasn’t like the others. Picking it up, Mukuro found a note sticking to the bottom of the spicy-smelling bag, the words saying “Item 02 found. A bag of fragrant potpourri that’s said to have been around for centuries”. As if on cue, the speaker from within the basket the potpourri bag once sat in turned on.

“Impressive, Fifth!” Sonia commented, her voice growing with aroused pleasure when she spoke about the potpourri in giggles. “Ah, that bag… I’ll never forget that luscious aroma on those nights in our suite when Akane and I--~” A slight moan escaped her throat at the memory, turning into a satisfied sigh as it sat on her mind. “Well, I think you’re probably aware of what went down, don’t you, Fifth? Just know this: The next item of business is on the other side of town. Good luck finding the rest in less than five hours!”

The walkie-talkie shut off, Mukuro trying not to think about acts Sonia had implied just seconds ago. She purchased the bag of potpourri at the register, paying for a fair-sized tote bag for it and the calendar project. Without much time to lose, Mukuro dashed out of the store with her bag of treasures, reading the third clue on the note.

“‘In earning was this item a flexible strain, now to earn it, you must take the northern town train’,” Mukuro read, groaning in frustration. “That’s going to take me forever! I’ve only got so much time to rescue Kiyotaka!”

Bucking up, Mukuro started running further towards the nearest train station. She shoved her way past any passersby, only caring about accomplishing a dangerous feat. Soon enough, Mukuro arrived at the transit station, hurrying down the stairs before coming across a long line of people waiting to buy tickets for the train. Sighing, Mukuro tapped her foot impatiently as the row started shrinking at a slow speed.

* * *

Some time later, Sonia sat near Akane’s corpse, looking boredly at her Thriller Diary’s current predictions. One of them said “21:09 [Maishima Arena]: Our freckled assassin finally acquires the slain love interest’s medals, ready to move onto the final two items.”, the time on her phone a good several minutes away from the entry coming true. Closing her phone for then, Sonia turned back to her lover’s body, stroking Akane’s chilling cheek with a gloved finger. With only the narcotized Ishimaru half-crucified to the wall in the back of the chapel, Sonia leaned over Akane’s body and cupped both cheeks in her gentle hands. She pushed her head forward, pressing her soft lips onto Akane’s pulseless ones and deepening the union. Letting a few smacks move in with half an inch of her tongue, Sonia broke her final kiss, wiping her mouth dry as Akane of course couldn’t respond to an otherwise passionate link.

“You will be avenged, my love,” Sonia whispered, letting more tears fall from her mascara-smudged eyes, darkening her face with wet makeup even further after drying the tears with her hand.

Sonia looked at the time on her phone, the appointed 9:09 arriving like her prophet entry said. Turning on her walkie-talkie, she spoke into it while looking at the Thriller Diary’s entries.

“I’m quite surprised, Fifth,” Sonia chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d actually get to this one. Now, the last two should be nice and simple. Let's see if you’ll be able to start all the way back here to find their spot! Because you know what will happen to your darling Sixth if you fail~!”

As a means to taunt Mukuro, Sonia cocked the handgun loudly in front of the walkie-talkie speaker, hanging up immediately with a sadistic giggle. The more she laughed, Sonia's amusement grew with obvious madness, to the point where her giggle became an outright cackle as both hands gripped the side of her face. While she did that, the chained up Ishimaru continued to stare at the rug with dead crimson eyes, having only enough energy to manage a slight rumbling with his head and torso. Seconds later, the strong effects of the tranquilizer drugs silenced any movement once more.

On the train an hour and a half later, Mukuro looked into her bag at the calendar, potpourri bag, and gymnastics medals, her foot tapping impatiently at the train’s speed. At long last, her prayers were answered when the metro transporter stopped at the station she started from. In a heartbeat, Mukuro dashed off the train and up the stairs, where she finally reached the night-lit city of downtown Osaka. Reading her final two clues on the note, Mukuro processed them as fast as she could. She stopped in place, feet still moving as she looked around at the correct coordinates of the city.

“‘We items twain lie as one, our four floors containment from 545 is the final spot of this jolly fun.’,” Mukuro read, searching for the address number.

Mukuro got close to one towering hotel building, looking all over until she found the exact address she was searching for. She went right inside, crossing the lobby threshold until she found the elevator. Pressing the up button, Mukuro waited for her transport to come down, the loud _DING_ alerting the Soldier it had finally done so. The elevator opened, letting old guests exit and Mukuro enter with gusto.

“Not a very lucky number,” Mukuro commented, pressing the four button for her floor of choice, “but whatever it takes to save Kiyotaka.”

The elevator ascended, passing two more floors before stopping at the fourth. Its doors opened, Mukuro running right out of them and searching new ground. She looked all around and inside the rooms for the correct one, quickly leaving the peepholes of ordinary guests. Much further down the floor’s hall, Mukuro peeked into one more room, discovering a photo portrait on the dresser of Sonia and Akane smiling in the sun. Having found the room, Mukuro looked up and down the door, crouching when she found a card sticking right out from underneath the door. Grabbing it, she slid it across the room slot and twisted the knob downwards to enter the room’s premises.

“I was lucky enough to find this place,” Mukuro commented, hitting the lights and walking around in her search. “Now to just look for a speaker.”

After failing to find anything of prominence near the beds and nightstand, Mukuro turned to check somewhere else. Just then, she caught something glimmer in the corner of her eye. On the dresser, Mukuro not only found the small black speaker she was looking for, but also a gold promise ring with a heart-shaped knot on it within an open black ring box. Next to the box was a silver heart locket centered with an equally-shaped garnet stone, inside revealing a picture of Akane and Sonia sharing a kiss from one locket half each. Mukuro closed the locker to look at the ring again, spotting an internal engraving of “Akane & Sonia: In love are we two for all eternity” before putting it back in the box and closing it. As if on cue, Sonia's voice came back on speaker.

“Will you look at that? You found… all of my items,” Sonia breathed as if distressed. “Well, take a good look at these two in particular, Fifth. Because they're symbols once of a promising future for me and my beloved, but now a cruel reminder of… of what is no longer feasible thanks to your horrid actions!” Sonia's voice grew remarkably angry, strong sobs mixed within the rage. “Are you satisfied, Fifth?! Akane and I had a future together! B-But now, she's gone! And it's all your fault! Come to the condemned church, and when you do… I’ll kill you! I’LL KILL YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME?! _I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID_!” The Princess’ shouts of fury turned to choppy, tearful breaths before she spoke again. “Oh… and don't think that your foolish boyfriend is going to get off so easily… Why don't we see how _you_ like it when someone slaughters your dearest lover, shall we?!”

Mukuro bolted out of the room with the trinkets in her bag seconds before Sonia even hung up, just barely catching the maniacal laughter of the grief-mad Princess as she made it to the stairs. Rushing down to the lobby, Mukuro escaped the hotel and ran down the street, stopping when she came  but across dormant construction vehicles in front of an aging chapel.

Looking around the main entrance, Mukuro noticed that everything was barred down save for a man made secondary door near the side. Shoving aside a few obstacles, Mukuro entered and found herself in the roomy threshold of the church. But instead of looking at anything pertaining to the usual religious purpose, painted banners hung all around saying things like “Eternal Love” and “Sonia + Akane” next to several pink heart-shaped lights. Also hung on the walls were several pictures and posters of Akane Owari herself; some covered with pink kiss marks, others having messages of mourning such as “RIP my dearest one”.

“Some kind of love monument?” Mukuro wondered. “Tenth’s made it look rather creepy.”

Near the door, Mukuro saw notes that were labeled and outlined with each retrieved item in her bag. In the order she’d found them, Mukuro placed her trinkets down near two lit candles each, only to find no spot for the promise ring or locket. On the door, she found a little hook, choosing to leave the locket hanging by its string on it before pushing the doors open. As expected, awaiting her in the candlelit chapel near the deceased body of Akane lying in floral repose was Sonia, who looked at her through her mascara-stained black veil and stood up.

“I was wondering whether you’d make it on time or not,” Sonia commented, holding out her palm. “Surrender the ring and we can proceed.”

“This ought to not take long,” Mukuro said, tossing Sonia the promise ring box and unsheathing her Fenrir knife from her camouflage-print pants leg. “Where’s Kiyotaka, Tenth?”

“Worry not, Fifth. I’ve yet to harm your lover,” Sonia assured, opening the box and slipping the promise ring onto Akane’s still finger. The Princess removed one of her gloves, revealing her own gold ring on the hand opposite her lover’s, curling her fingers between Akane’s and bowing her head into her immobile chest. “At least with this ring, I can be yours when we’re both no longer of this world.” Sonia got down on her knees, leaning her face in close to Akane’s and stealing another deep kiss from the chilling lips of the Gymnast, cupping her cheek before pulling apart with tears teasing her green eyes.

 _“Okay, she’s clearly lost it…”_ Mukuro thought, disgusted from the corpse kiss before diverting her attention to the back of the room. “Kiyotaka!”

Mukuro ran over to Ishimaru, discovering his muted and half-open crimson eyes while he remained knelt and chained by the wrists to the back wall. Mukuro tried shaking him back to consciousness with pleading words, but had no avail. She felt his chest once, exceedingly relieved that he was merely drugged instead of dead. Mukuro moved her hands all around the chains, tugging and yanking them unsuccessfully to try and free her dear friend. Suddenly, the Soldier heard the sound of a gun cock in unison with her Tactics Diary making an update. Turning around with her open phone clasped in her hand, Mukuro saw Sonia pointing a black handgun directly towards her, weary eyes furrowing as a grin came to her wet mascara-stained face behind the thin black veil.

“If I have to suffer the loss of my lover,” Sonia began darkly, “then you shall be punished in the same way!”

Seconds before Sonia pulled her index finger against the trigger, Mukuro tossed her Fenrir knife as straight as an arrow, sending the gun point askew until the fired bullet pierced the window instead of Ishimaru’s heart like its bearer intended. Mukuro read her Tactics Diary, which predicted “23:00: Tenth attempts to shoot Kiyotaka. A straight and direct knife toss will throw off her aim.”. As she looked at the entry “23:03: Tenth fires five bullets towards Kiyotaka and I. Use the closest object to deflect both bullets.”. Less than a few seconds later, Sonia started to pull the trigger, Mukuro grabbing an iron plate while falling to the ground and dodging the bullet. Mukuro immediately rose up, guarding Ishimaru from four consecutive bullets, each one bouncing off the cold hard metal.

“Argh, shit!” Sonia cursed, tossing the gun away angrily. She spotted Mukuro's knife on the floor, picking it up and gripping it tight. “This will do quite nicely.”

“I’d like to see you try and use that,” Mukuro taunted tepidly.

“A proper kingdom for only us; a goddess and her lover,” Sonia breathed to Akane's corpse. “Isn't that what we’ve always wanted, darling?”

While Mukuro glanced at her Tactics Diary’s set of future entries, Sonia charged at her with the knife in a yell. Still reading the prediction “23:04: Tenth comes running with the intent to stab me. A swift duck-and-turn will nicely fix that.”, Mukuro lowered her body when Sonia got close enough to thrust the knife out, pivoting herself and evading its blade completely. Mukuro ran to the opposite side, reading off her Tactics Diary to herself again. She was sure to keep her voice low enough to prevent Sonia from hearing her next expected move.

“‘23:08: Tenth goes in for an upper stab thrust to the gut. Bend backwards and give her a kick to the jaw so she finally drops the knife.’,” Mukuro uttered to herself before spotting another prediction directly underneath it. “‘23:09: Tenth tries charging at me as a dead last resort. Run past her swiftly while slashing out to get the key tied around her neck.’.”

Mukuro looked up at Sonia, who started running at her with the Soldier’s own knife. Dangling around her neck under the cloak was a gold key presumably complementing the chains restraining Ishimaru. Flawlessly dodging the failed slash by moving to the side, Mukuro kept her eyes on the key and her stolen blade. Again did Sonia run back and forth numerous times to try and take Mukuro's life with the Fenrir knife, only for the Soldier to evade her at every turn. Soon enough, Sonia stood close to Mukuro and gripped her weapon upwards, jagged blade pointing at Mukuro’s gut.

“Just DIE!” Sonia wailed with tears of fury, shoving the knife upwards towards Mukuro.

“Not today, Tenth!” Mukuro exclaimed, bending her body backwards so the knife only cut through the air around her.

At the same time, Mukuro flexed her leg upwards and gave Sonia a swift kick to the jaw, causing the Princess to drop the knife and hold her profusely bleeding mouth together as it ached. Taking advantage of that moment, Mukuro retrieved her Fenrir knife, wiping the handle clean of any unwelcome fingerprints that didn’t belong to its rightful owner.

“Good to have you back,” Mukuro said to her knife. “Now to free Kiyotaka.”

“You're going to need quite a bit of luck doing that, Fifth!” Sonia taunted, dangling the brace key between her fingers. “If you want this key, you must go through me first!”

“Well, okay. But only because you asked so badly.”

In a charge so swift it was nearly sightless, Mukuro did a few slashes with her Fenrir knife and snatched the key and string from Sonia. Within less than a few seconds, several deep cuts and gashes opened up on Sonia, the pain making her cry out pained and fall right onto the floor as blood soaked the carpet and mourner cloak.

Not paying heed to Sonia push herself along the carpet to try and reach her, Mukuro inserted the key into one of Ishimaru’s braces and twisting it back and forth, releasing his right wrist from the brace clamp. She repeated the process with the other, and slumped her unconscious friend over her back once he was completely free.

“No… I can’t fail! I just can’t!” Sonia breathed, propping herself up while weak from the wound pain and blood loss. “You killed my Akane…! I wanted to avenge her and make a better kingdom as God!”

“You were bound to fail when you harmed Kiyotaka,” Mukuro said icily, pointing her knife blade-first at the wounded Sonia using her free hand. “Not only that, but you were foolish enough to take arms against a Soldier. If I were you Tenth, I’d surrender now before I made things worse for myself.”

Tears blobbed up and rolled from the stunned Sonia’s eyes, every last grim moment flashing before her in that instant. Every last hope, every last dream she planned gone in an instant. However, a broken heart and grief aside, something within Sonia felt as though it’d fizzed out like a dying sparkler. Once the hollow feeling took over, the Princess closed her eyes and stood up, removing her black funeral veil with a morose smile.

“Fifth…” Sonia sighed, looking right at the skeptical Mukuro. “I hereby concede defeat. You’re right; I was foolish to try and take down someone with such impressive combat skills and devotion to her lover.”

“You’re giving up?” Mukuro asked rhetorically, raising her Fenrir knife at the Thriller Diary in Sonia’s grip. “Good. That means you won’t do anything to stop me--”

“--There is no need. If I’m going to meet my Dead End, then I wish to remain physical just like the one my heart is with.” Sonia’s tone was hollow despite her equally wistful smile, her despair possessing her whole body. The SHSL Princess picked up the black handgun from the floor, Mukuro’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates once she realized what Sonia intended to do.

“Tenth, no!” Mukuro gasped as she ran over to Sonia, only to be pushed away by her.

“It’s okay, Fifth,” Sonia said, putting her Thriller Diary on the floor, walking over to Akane’s corpse on the large table of red roses. She pulled the gun’s hammer back, tears streaming from her closed eyes as she put the gun to her nose’s root once she made sure her free hand laid atop her lover’s. “My flag cannot be prevented anyways. At least I definitely know I’m going where Akane is.”

“Tenth, don’t do it! You don’t have to--!”

Mukuro made an attempt to grab the weapon from Sonia’s hand, only for the Princess to pull the trigger and sound off a loud _BANG_ , bits of her brain splattering out with her skull and spilled blood. As Sonia’s body fell to the floor in a pool of her own blood, the Thriller Diary became soaked with the red liquid as it stagnantly displayed its final message “23:11 [Abandoned Church]: After a relentless defeat at the hands of the killer Fifth, the Princess sends herself to be with her beloved forever. DEAD END”.

All Mukuro could do at that moment was look down, horror consuming her usually apathetic blue eyes. Lips quaked without mercy, body trembling as it expertly combated the urge to scream or vomit. Although she was used to concealing such horror physically, Mukuro’s thumping heart and knotted insides received all the emotion while contracted hyperventilation left with whatever air was left in her lungs. The Soldier’s breathing became shaky, struggling to catch a steady inhale-exhale pattern. Such a horrific sight dug deep into the recesses of Mukuro’s mind, never to be forgotten.

“This game… is tearing everyone apart…” Mukuro breathed, feeling suffocated as her eyes refused to tear themselves away from Sonia’s corpse. “I-It’ll be alright… when there’s a new God, everyone will come back and forget about everything! I just know it!”

Forcing in clearer breaths through her nose, Mukuro forced her heart to stop striking her rib cage and nerves to tranquilize. Feeling her calmness return to fight back shock, Mukuro bent down and removed the black cloak and gloves from Sonia’s dead body with one hand. Putting Ishimaru down on a front bench for a moment, Mukuro picked up the deceased SHSL Princess and laid her back-first on the wide table of roses, adjusting her hand so it entwined with Akane’s. To top it all off, Mukuro rearranged a bushel of roses, neatly covering Sonia within the flowers as if to give her a dual burial with Akane.

Resheathing the Fenrir knife where it belonged, Mukuro walked over and picked Ishimaru up again, slinging his body over her shoulder and leaving the church through the secret entrance. Despite hearing the chatters of arriving demolition crews, Mukuro refused to look back with eyes so dead and scarred from a permanent sight. With each step taken closer to Hope’s Peak Academy, Mukuro felt the anxiety swirl inside like a torrent, her carrying arm gripping Ishimaru’s unconscious form with terrified protectiveness.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Cathedral Of Causality, Junko carefully strolled along until the joyless Kamukura and his throne were in sight. She looked in from behind the wall, flipping up her dark pink cell phone with the monochromatic bear charm on its end. Morbidly pleasant words remained on the screen, making Junko giggle from each syllable.

“Upupupu! So glad my old Torture Diary wasn't ready for retirement after all!” Junko laughed, gripping onto something else tightly. “When I'm done, everything will finally get a little interesting!”

“What are you up to, Second?” Komaeda asked, startling Junko into nearly dropping her items. “May I ask what's suddenly so funny with you?”

“Great, just who I wanna see…” Junko grumbled sarcastically. “None of your business, Clone Boy. Now do everyone a favor and scram!”

“Hmm, what's this?” Komaeda peered close to Junko's open Torture Diary, growing fearful with a gasp as he read each word. “‘23:32: Izu-chan gets wounded by a machete and loses every drop of life he has. Courtesy of me, of course~! <3’. So, this is your new little conspiracy? Betraying _and_ assassinating my Izuru-sama?!”

“Duh! Why the hell wouldn't I?” Junko cackled, raising her arm to show Komaeda a large machete. “And this little baby's gonna help me do it!”

“I’d love to see you try, Second,” Komaeda laughed, realizing Junko's plan. “Honestly, you really think you can take down a god with a little machete? Izuru-sama has much more power than you!”

“Your point, freak?”

“My _point_ is that you can try to live out this little homicidal fantasy of yours all you want. In fact, such a thought giving you this much hope is a wonderful thing!”

“Ugh, don't even start with that hope bullshit! That word’s gross just to hear!”

“My my, you're even more foolish than I imagined. Well, since you're clearly so much of a blind half-wit to perceive hope as vile, then I might as well be on my way.” Komaeda started walking to the throne room, only to be stopped by Junko yanking his olive hoodie.

“And where do ya think you're going, Ko?” Junko questioned, raising her machete.

“Just going to have a little chat with my creator. It's nothing of your concern, Second--”

Before Komaeda had time to do anything else, he let out a sharp gasp of pain when he felt Junko lunge her machete through his back and heart. He looked down with horror, even more shocked when the wound started turning to pixel blocks instead of blood and damaged flesh. Junko yanked the machete out with a grin, Komaeda's hands and feet starting to dissolve into pixels like the wound.

“How pathetic…” Komaeda sighed as his arms and legs disappeared into fading pixels. “A worthless copy such as myself can't even bleed correctly. Let alone… warn his only…”

In seconds, Komaeda's entire being became nothing but pixels that faded from existence altogether, leaving behind a cackling Junko. Junko saw a prediction right above her favored one, saying “23:28: The fake Komaeda finally gets shanked and kicks the bucket. Who else could've done it but me? ;)”. With her obstacle out of the way for good, Junko closed her Torture Diary, walking up to Kamukura with the machete behind her back. She whistled to get his attention, receiving the run-of-the-mill tepid glance and a scoff.

“Yes, Junko?” Kamukura asked. “Something you need?”

“Just wanted to see how our little Game’s doing, Izu-chan~,” Junko purred. “I heard everyone's kicked it but my sister and her nerd babe!”

“They have. Tenth and Twelfth have been eliminated.” Kamukura’ eyes creased slightly, recalling a memory. “About time too. How the hell can someone call me ‘Izaya Kamikaze’ when I’ve said my name a billion times?”

“Beats me. Twelfth had bigger tits than she did a brain!” Junko cleared her throat, remembering to focus on the task. “Anyways, before you give up your throne, why don't we spend a little time together? Maybe I could do something about that mop you call a hairdo?”

“Do what you want. I don’t care. And if you’re gonna style it, make it good.”

When Kamukura shrunk down to human size in his gigantic throne, Junko grinned like a maniac before floating up to the throne until she was behind the unsuspecting and uncaring boy God. He sat with his legs crossed, folding his arms boredly as locks of extended hair and bangs flowed like dark wisps. Once certain that Kamukura was completely oblivious, Junko uncovered the machete from behind her back and swung it downwards with both hands. What she didn’t expect, however, was for Kamukura to turn around just as quickly and grab both her wrists to prevent the machete from sending him to his doom.

“Just as I figured,” Kamukura hissed without much emotion in his eyes. “Guess my visions really can’t be wrong.”

“Shit, forgot you’re just ‘Mr. Know-It-All’, aren’t ya?!” Junko snarled, trying to force the machete down but failing when Kamukura pushed it completely away.

“Can the answer to that even be ‘no’? I’m the First Diary Holder _and_ a teenage deity. Do you really think I won’t see that coming?”

Junko gave swinging her machete at Kamukura another go, only for the god to leap from his throne until he was up in the air. When Junko did the same, flying through the violet-hued air with her machete and a yell, Kamukura summoned several black orbs of darkness that sprouted many eyes each. Once his traitor was close, each orb detonated a fiery explosion that Junko was knocked from side to side with. Scratched from head to toe, Junko grabbed the machete again and flew towards Kamukura.

“Still persistent as ever, Junko,” Kamukura sighed, conjuring one more dark eye bomb and sending it hurtling towards Junko.

This time, Junko used her machete to slice the orb bomb in two, the explosion going off behind her as she smiled evilly. Before Kamukura had time to act, Junko flew close enough to slice the machete across his chest, tearing his black divinity cloak even more and leaving a gash in his abdomen. Wrapping an arm around the wound, Kamukura flew back to avoid Junko's next slash, zipping forward and kicking her in the side until she slammed into the wall. Rocks crumbled from the hole she left, Junko flying away from it injured and attempting to strike Kamukura. Unfortunately for her, Kamukura quickly retaliated by drop-kicking his heel into Junko's abdomen, sending her to the ground in a large crater left by the impact. Kamukura flew down, stomping a foot on Junko's stomach as she let out a pained grunt and looked up at him with defeat.

“Did you really think you could beat a god?” Kamukura asked rhetorically, looking at Junko with stoic blood red eyes. “When are you gonna just give up, Junko?”

“Like hell I’d ever! Gah, you're ruining everything, Izuru!” Junko roared.

“Just like old times. Our first game may be long over, but there's no way I'm ever gonna stop bringing you down. Don't you get it?”

“Stupid… you're so fucking stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid--!”

“--Oh shut up, will you?” Kamukura lifted his foot up from Junko, a thick vine wrapping around her stomach and strapping her to the ground. “You're never gonna win. Even if you keep at it for so long, I'm always gonna be the victorious one. No. Matter. What.”

Angry and frustrated, Junko acted on instinct and thrust her machete arm at Kamukura's ankle, the long-haired boy hissing back pain. Slicing herself free of the vine, Junko leaped up and pierced the machete blade through the distracted Kamukura's back. He let out a loud grunt of pain, looking down at the blood pouring out below the machete blade sticking out of his gut. His pain grew when Junko ripped her weapon out with a grin as blood splattered, Kamukura falling to his knees before his side and hair hit the ground. Junko stood above him, the god turning and looking at the malicious intent in her eyes until he gasped out when Junko held him up by a tight neck grip. Kamukura coughed and gasped for air, only to lose the remaining amount in his lungs when Junko reinserted the machete into his chest and slice his abdominal cavity from top to bottom. Blood splattered to the floor from the severed organs alongside drips of gastric acid while Kamukura’s body also started to dissolve into a rising black mist as he looked at Junko with dying eyes and weakening gasps.

“Eno… shima…” Kamukura breathed as more of his body started fading into darkness within Junko’s grasp.

“Upupupu, look who’s finally winning~,” Junko giggled as Kamukura’s dying mist went from black to red.

The rest of Kamukura’s physical form taking shape from the smog until it was a glowing maroon shard in Junko’s hand. She made the shard grow brightly in her fingers before a red aura surrounded her body, a tattered black cloak similar to her former master’s wrapping itself on Junko like a cape and linked at the middle by a black-and-white evil bear head. Atop the Second Diary Holder’s head was a tiny red queen’s crown, its wearer cackling evilly to herself at her new attire. Junko wrapped her arms around herself, embracing the new feeling of ultimate strength and power as a bit of drool threatened to leave her grin.

“Don’t worry, Hajime,” Junko said to herself when she let go of her body, “I’ll be sure to put _all_ your powers to good use~!” The girl looked up at Kamukura’s former pedestal, floating upwards and taking a seat within the large stone dome below the throne before switching on his old giant viewing screen. “And I’ll start by making a few adjustments to the Survival Game…”


	31. Day & Night 51: A Date With Complete Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> SHSL Guest: Oh no, it's okay! Also, I hope this chapter lives up to your high hopes, because there's only 3 or 4 chapters left in the story after this one!
> 
> Vriskaserbet: You actually watched Mirai Nikki, Briana? Wasn't expecting that, but alright! At least you know what's going on! I'm glad you like the story that much!

By 6:00 am that following Friday, Ishimaru awoke from dozing off in his room yet again. This time, he felt as though a heavy numbness had finally been evacuated from his body for good. Stretching his arms, he crawled out from the sheets wearing only a pair of white pajamas, the sensation of finally being able to leave his bed unbelievably exhilarating. Yawning, he decided to go over and work on the remainder of his missed assignments from his sluggish absences. Still in his pajamas, Ishimaru sat at his work desk and began working at packets for the physics lesson he’d missed out on.

 _“I do wonder how I became so bedridden,”_ Ishimaru pondered mentally whilst answering the questions using numerous formulas. _“Maybe today Mukuro will finally fill me in on everything.”_

Ishimaru put accurate answers for the last of the formula sets. After closing up his homework, he did a quick wrap-up review of the math lesson before its ultimate assessment. When he was sure he’d remember the formulas clearly for later, Ishimaru got up and changed into his typical pristine white gakuran and uniform. He fastened his regular black boots over his pants, preparing himself to start his morning stretch exercises.

* * *

At 7:00 an hour later, Ishimaru was well on his way to the cafeteria for breakfast. While walking, he looked at the entries on his Friendship Diary, his topmost one reading “07:15: Mukuro arrives at breakfast and sits with me at the table close to the door. She looks rather shaken about something; what could be bothering her?”. The second below it read “07:18: Mukuro selects the waffles with light syrup for breakfast and some coffee, but is disappointed to have no strawberries to put on the former. Her food choice could be better, but I do feel a little bad for her.” with the third entry being “07:22: Mukuro is beating around the bush when I ask her about Monday night’s events. I hope I’m not worrying her too much; what sort of friend would I be?!”. He closed his phone and remembered the predictions when he arrived at the cafeteria minutes later.

Ishimaru set his books on the table and bag on the chair by its straps. He joined the line of students waiting to get breakfast, picking out choices with plenty of nutrients. On his plate was a bowl of miso soup and a side of rice with natto atop the grains. Before leaving, he noticed a single cup of strawberries all by itself. When no one noticed it, Ishimaru quickly grabbed the cup and carried it out with his breakfast. On his way back to his belongings, the Friendship Diary signaled a change in Mukuro's future, Ishimaru sitting down to check the new prediction of “07:18: Mukuro is more than joyous when I give her the strawberries for her breakfast’s garnish. Seeing her smile so brightly warms my heart so much!”.

“And Mukuro should arrive right about…” Hearing someone take their seat at the same table, Ishimaru looked up to see a very uneasy Mukuro. “Now! Good morning to you, Muki!” Ishimaru greeted with affection.

“Yes, good morning, Kiyotaka,” Mukuro yawned. “Have you been making a full recovery?”

“I have, thank you for asking. But, you don't look like you’ve slept too well. Whatever is bothering you?”

“It's not… it's not that important. I'm just tired and should be okay after some coffee and breakfast.”

Mukuro got up from her seat and went to the line for breakfast. She walked through the assortment of different food choices, choosing an empty tea cup and fresh waffles among others. When she got to the area where the maple syrup was, Mukuro drizzled a light coating onto her plate of flaky dough disks and reached for a topping, face falling when she saw no cups of a particular fruit were left. Sighing, the disappointed SHSL Soldier left with her incomplete breakfast and went to a small table near a wall, pouring some hazelnut coffee into the cup and adding a light amount of cream and sugar. She took the cup and waffles back to where Ishimaru was sitting, taking her seat with a sigh of disappointment.

“Now what am I gonna put on these things?” Mukuro wondered, staring at the drizzled waffles. “I can’t just eat them with syrup alone.”

“Perhaps these will help?” Ishimaru asked, sliding his cup of strawberries over to Mukuro.

“Ah! I can really have these?!” Mukuro beamed, her face lighting up with a brightened smile. “Taka, thank you! These are just what I’m looking for!”

“Well, I have my trusty Friendship Diary to thank for that,” Ishimaru answered, smiling in return as his cheeks colored themselves pink from Mukuro’s joy. “At least now you can have a _fruitful_ breakfast!”

In response to the joke, Mukuro let out something akin to a laugh and a sigh of exasperation. Putting every last chopped strawberry piece on her waffles, Mukuro was able to happily dig into her breakfast while Ishimaru started on his miso soup. About halfway through their meals, Mukuro started getting slow in her forkfuls and coffee sips, Ishimaru swallowing a bite of natto and rice before he noticed this.

“Mukuro, I'm worried,” Ishimaru stated, both eyebrows creasing upwards. “You’ve yet to completely fill me in on your duel with Tenth. And from what I’ve gathered, you’re quite unnerved by it.”

“Kiyotaka, I told you that all you need to know is Tenth is… dead, and your memory is foggy from the tranquilizer when she kidnapped you,” Mukuro huffed, darting her furrowed eyes away. “I’d rather not talk about it at all and move on.”

“Are you sure? Talking about it will make you feel better. Besides, according to my Diary, you’re not telling me something important--”

“--I said drop it!” Mukuro snapped, surprising Ishimaru and taking a deep breath when she saw his somewhat frightened face. “...Please, drop it. I don’t want to talk about it, and you should respect that.”

“O-Oh… I’m so sorry, Mukuro. It wasn’t my intention to pressure you, I swear.”

“Just forget about it and eat your breakfast. That’s probably the best thing you can do right now.”

Sighing, Ishimaru went back to eating his miso soup and natto-covered rice. Despite dropping the subject, Mukuro looked more stressed than ever in her eyes. Her face was calm, but her icy blue soul windows and lip biting betrayed the facade. The Hall Monitor finished up most of his miso soup and was halfway through his rice when his brain sprung up an idea. Such a thought made him turn bright red in the face and a little nervous, but Ishimaru accepted the idea for Mukuro’s benefit.

* * *

Minutes before homeroom began, Ishimaru was organizing his mathematics notes in lieu of the test he and everyone was due to take shortly. In a desk nearby, Mukuro was doing one last review while the rest of their class started arriving early enough to prevent penalty. As Mukuro looked at her notes, Ishimaru caught himself staring at her with slight worry, but nonetheless quite loving as evidenced by his burning rosy cheeks. Taking out his Friendship Diary, he saw a mundane prediction saying “08:52: Mukuro scores an exemplary 93% on our mathematics test. She never ceases to make me proud with her studious work ethic!”. Shutting the phone seconds before the teacher entered holding the test papers and spares, Ishimaru looked back at Mukuro with a loving gaze and florid smile. He let out a content sigh, the SHSL Soldier looking back and smiling with a wave before turning to the front once he returned the gesture.

“Mukuro…” Ishimaru sighed contently until someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Huh?!”

“Hey, Ishi,” Leon whispered, grinning at him slyly with wiggled red eyebrows.

“Yes, Kuwata-kun? What's so important that you couldn't get my attention in a more dignified way?”

“Hey, I just wanted ta know how far you've gotten with Ikusaba. I'm sure even someone like you has to have at least kissed her at this point!”

“K-Kissed?! Kuwata-kun, Mukuro and I aren't an item! Regardless of what I may think of her, there isn't any way we’d distract ourselves with silly courtship!”

“Oh, come on! You two go literally everywhere together! For all we know, you guys are practically sleepin’ together!”

“We-- We are doing no such things! Never would I ever engage in anything like that with Mukuro! We're just… friends is all!” Ishimaru was reminded of something he’d planned from earlier, the thought satisfying. “In fact, we’re such close friends that I plan on taking her somewhere nice since she's been so down lately and--”

“--See? You're even taking Ikusaba on a date! What did I tell ya?”

“It is not to be called as such if both parties don't! Even-- even though I consider myself close to her, it wouldn't feel right to outright call it something so sudden!”

“Class, I'm handing out your tests now, so please be quiet,” the teacher announced, walking around and passing around paper sheets.

“Look, my advice?” Leon asked quietly. “You can at least be honest with Ikusaba. Who knows? She probably digs you too. All ya gotta do is start makin’ a move.”

Ishimaru was unable to respond due to having received his blank math exam. Sighing and glancing at the focused Mukuro once, Ishimaru grabbed his pencil and eraser and began writing down answers to the test. Formula after formula, something else kept plaguing the back of Ishimaru's mind after what Leon said.

After homeroom, the teacher handed back the corrected exams as the students walked out the door. Ishimaru and Mukuro received their tests together, both satisfied greatly at the results.

“A perfect score rightfully earned!” Ishimaru chirped at the red 100% on his paper. “You did a wonderful job as well, Mukuro! 93% is certainly something to be proud of!”

“How did you--” Mukuro was about to say until she remembered a certain Future Diary. “Nevermind, that's right. Anyways, my score is great, but yours is fantastic!”

“Oh, this? It's only solid proof of my devotion to my studious ethic! It's quite clear you studied quite hard too, Muki! Otherwise, how else would you have passed?”

“I wouldn't have, that's how. Shall we be on our way? The Committee is waiting, aren't they?”

“Ah, correct! Let's not waste time now!”

As they began walking, Ishimaru looked at Mukuro once he’d remembered the important question. When he finally sprung up enough courage to attempt to ask, Mukuro had already gone inside the Disciplinary Committee classroom without minding much else. Sighing with discontent, Ishimaru set his stuff down inside and put his question aside for the time being.

 _“I must ask her,”_ Ishimaru declared mentally. _“Kuwata-kun’s surprisingly right; I can't sit around and do nothing about my emotions any longer!”_

* * *

Hours later, the bell rang and sent everyone off from their final class to enjoy the weekend ahead. While Mukuro was gathering her things, Ishimaru looked on with a ruddy face and gathered his thoughts. He took several deep breaths to sedate his racing heart and sweaty face, fumbling with his Friendship Diary as he took it out and looked at it once it was open. Ishimaru felt relief upon reading one entry of “15:33: Mukuro accepts my nerve-wracking offer of taking her out tonight for the first time. Just hearing her say yes makes me feel so exhilarated and joyful!”. When Mukuro prepared to leave after slinging her bag over her shoulders, Ishimaru quickly stopped her, eyebrow twitching and face burning with a shade of red bright enough to put his eyes to utter shame.

“Kiyotaka?” Mukuro wondered with concern. “You look quite ill. What seems to be the matter?”

“M-Mukuro!” Ishimaru squeaked, clearing his throat less than a second after the name escaped him. “Mukuro, there’s something I would like to ask of you!”

“What is it? I’m listening. It sounds urgent.”

Unsure of the next action to be taken, Ishimaru acted on instinct and got down on one knee, grabbing the surprised Mukuro’s palm while his face burned redder. Sweat started to pour down his face as Ishimaru made shaky eye contact with Mukuro, who was starting to turn pink in the face herself from the sudden gesture.

“Mukuro Ikusaba!” Ishimaru exclaimed, “I can’t say I’ve ever done something like this before, but there’s a proposal I’d like to ask of you!”

“A proposal? Taka, don’t you think we’re a little too young for--”

“--It isn’t the proposal you’re most likely thinking of! No, there’s something else I’d like to ask you.”

“Okay, I’m listening. You should probably get it out now. And please, stand up before you ask.”

Ishimaru did as advised, standing up on his two feet and refusing to take his eyes out of Mukuro’s. He took another deep breath, clasping Mukuro’s hand a little tighter as he fished for a proper sentence. Every syllable jumbled within his head, trying to make sense and going through possible outcomes of what would happen otherwise. Soon, they finally stopped, commanding Ishimaru to say the words in their exact order.

“Mukuro, I’d be honored if you accompanied me to dinner tonight,” Ishimaru got out. “I’ve noticed how down you’ve been since Monday, so I thought taking you somewhere nice would help brighten your mood.”

“You want to take me on… a date?” Mukuro guessed, blinking once as her own blush deepened. She put her lips to a curled finger, trying to process blissful words just spoken to her.

“Err, I don’t know if it’s right to call it a ‘date’! But, if you wish to call it that, then I cannot stop you. You don’t have to agree to such an occasion, but at the very least consider--”

“--I want to go. Consider your offer accepted. It’s thoughtful of you to want to help me, Taka. How could I say no?”

“You’ll go?! Oh, delightful! What time is best for you later on?”

“Let’s rendezvous by seven o’clock sharp. I look forward to our evening together.”

Mukuro leaned forward and planted a kiss on Ishimaru’s cheek, smiling as she left behind a disconcerted Hall Monitor. Ishimaru nearly fell over on his own feet when Mukuro gave him such an unexpected peck, but nonetheless perked up by her actions and acceptance. He looked at his watch, quickly leaving the room to prepare for the event properly. As he went back to his dorm, Ishimaru put a hand to his cheek and smiled, sighing contently from the pair of lips that touched it.

* * *

That evening, it was only a mere five minutes to seven when Ishimaru pulled up a black formal jacket over his white dress shirt tucked into black pants. He buttoned it up to his breastbone, fastening a black bowtie on the color of the dress shirt and doing one last inspection in the mirror. Approving of his looks, Ishimaru gave himself a thumbs up and adjusted his tie once again.

“All dressed up and ready to go!” Ishimaru chirped before turning around to the portrait on his nightstand. The Hall Monitor’s face fell slightly sullen when he found himself looking at the smiling portrait of the late Takaaki Ishimaru, giving a salute to the camera despite his usual composition. “Isn’t it surprising, Father?” Ishimaru asked the portrait, putting a hand on it. “Tonight I’m actually going on my first ‘date’. If only you could be here to see me go, I wonder what you’d say exactly…”

Of course, Takaaki’s portrait did not respond to anything Ishimaru said, instead remaining still like the picture behind the glass. Ishimaru let a tear blob leave his duct and roll down his face, wiped away by his hand as he leaned close to the portrait in a semi-embrace. All the more, Ishimaru's heart ached upon remembering what he so promised his father following his murder weeks before, now obsolete in recent events.

“I love you, Father,” Ishimaru told the portrait, saluting it while fighting the growing urge to cry again. “Rest in peace, and I’ll possibly see you again one day.”

Ishimaru slipped on a pair of black dress shoes for the occasion, tapping his feet to secure both on his heel properly. Inserting the Friendship Diary into his pocket and a stack of eloquently written index cards into the other, Ishimaru left his room behind and went next door to Mukuro's. He knocked on the wooden block, the Soldier’s voice telling him she’d be coming out in seconds. As promised, there emerged Mukuro wearing a dark halter strap dress and low heels like the night of the casino shindig. However, just the sight of Mukuro gussied up with brushed, clipped hair and a light coating of mascara made Ishimaru’s heart race as he couldn’t take his amazed crimson eyes off of her.

“How do I look, Kiyotaka?” Mukuro asked shyly, a pink color stretching across her freckles.

“Beautiful!” Ishimaru answered, smiling at her. “There's no other way of putting it!”

“Oh, come on. You’ve seen me in this before. How is tonight any different?”

“You could say I've gotten the chance to see more of you this time around. And I love what I know now!”

Ishimaru's kind words alone were enough to make Mukuro even shyer, ducking her head as her face turned bright scarlet. Worried he’d made her uncomfortable, Ishimaru went to apologize and offer condolence, only for Mukuro to look up and give him assurance to quell him.

“You look quite dashing tonight, Taka,” Mukuro complimented, smiling lightly.

“Why, thank you, Muki! This is just something I put on for our--”

“--Our date, right? That's what we want to call it?”

“Only if it suits you. Are you ready to go?”

“I am. Let's get going while the night is still young.”

Mukuro opened her hand slightly, reaching out for Ishimaru to grab a hold before she would move any further. Ishimaru eventually caught on and nearly jumped at the subtle notion, unsure of what to do. Mukuro assured him by telling him nothing bad would come of it and to keep trusting her. Though hesitant about PDA, Ishimaru put his soft palm in Mukuro’s, walking with her without letting go despite sweat arising from his hand’s surface. Ishimaru saw Mukuro was smiling from his warm touch, and found himself doing the same when his face turned as florid as her’s.

The two walked out of the school, Mukuro following Ishimaru’s lead and going where his restaurant of choice was. They stopped at a stop for the bus, only waiting a solid ten minutes for it to arrive. Both paid their respective cheap fare, taking their seats next to each other and releasing hands from a gentle grasp. Off the bus went down three blocks, coming to a stop when they were finally near a finely lit building smelling vaguely of spices and zest. Ishimaru and Mukuro got off the bus, the former pointing at the restaurant where the spicy scent originated from.

“‘Ashoka’?” Mukuro wondered. “Never had Indian food before.”

“Nor have I, but there's a special deal tonight that even I can afford!” Ishimaru cleared his throat, preventing himself from sounding even more stupid. “Shall we, my dear?”

Ishimaru went right ahead and opened the door, putting an arm out in the restaurant until Mukuro thanked him and entered first. Ishimaru followed suit, waiting in the area until their waiter came along and identified them.

“Name please?” the waiter asked, looking at his clipboard.

“Ishimaru, party of two?” Ishimaru answered.

“Ah, right! This way, Ishimaru-kun and date.”

The waiter led them both to their table and had them seated. He asked them if they’d like to start off with a standard dish known as “samosa”, to which Ishimaru and Mukuro agreed despite only guessing what it was from the menu description. Their waiter nodded, wrote down the order and left to fetch their cheap appetizer. Once he was gone, Ishimaru and Mukuro peeked further into the menus for another food option affected by the deal.

“So, what are you getting?” Ishimaru asked, looking at the menu.

“I’m considering the prawn masala or the vegetable jaipuri,” Mukuro answered, peering up from her menu. “What does your Friendship Diary say I’m going to order?”

“Now, Mukuro, I can’t use my Diary to peek at every single thing you’re doing. That’s just creepy! I think we should just leave it to be a surprise this time and let nature take its course.”

“I guess so. What are you getting, Kiyotaka?”

“I’m going to order the ‘mutton vindaloo’ with some garlic naan. Thankfully all the ‘hot’ dishes are 50% off tonight!”

Soon enough after both decided on their orders, their waiter came back with triangular dough patties sticking upright on the plate, announcing their samosa was ready. Then, he asked both what they wanted to order, Ishimaru choosing the mutton vindaloo and garlic naan while Mukuro decided on the prawn masala for her dish. After both menus were taken by the waiter when the order was written down, Ishimaru gathered the total amount of yen for the meal and paid early, Mukuro leaving a ¥1000 tip for the waiter’s troubles.

“This is samosa?” Mukuro wondered, tilting the steaming dough patty around in her grasp and looking at it owlishly. “Looks peculiar.”

“What's the old saying? ‘Don't knock a book by it's cover’?” Ishimaru misquoted.

“It's don't _judge_ a book by its cover, Taka. Still, you think this will taste okay?”

“You won't know unless you try, Muki!” Ishimaru grabbed one, putting it close to his mouth. “In fact, I’ll try it with you!”

“Alright… here goes nothing.”

Closing her eyes tight, Mukuro leaned her mouth onto the samosa piece’s surface, sinking her teeth through it and something akin to salmon. Taking the mixture deeper into her mouth, she chewed the piece and accepted the flavor, calmer about the nice taste while swallowing her mix. Satisfied at how it tasted, Mukuro finished off the samosa at the same time Ishimaru started eating his, the Hall Monitor also accepting a newfound fish-dough texture in his mouth traveling down his throat.

“Not bad,” Mukuro commented, consuming the remaining samosa. “It’s like a little fish patty.”

“It's soft in texture,” Ishimaru stated. “The taste is a bit strong, but salmon thankfully has lots of nutrients!”

Ishimaru ate the rest of his samosa while Mukuro tackled halfway through another one before she put it down as well. Seeing at their food had yet to arrive, the two decided to start conversing as a means to pass the time. While looking at each other, Ishimaru and Mukuro started feeling a bit nervous by their surroundings and the reality they’d just entered together.

“So, is this your first date?” Mukuro asked.

“Yes. It’s the first time I’ve decided to bother with something so… strange,” Ishimaru answered. “But, it’s a good kind of ‘strange’ tonight! Is this your first date, Mukuro?”

“I don’t believe so. In the past, I’ve been on something wonderful akin to a ‘date’ with another close to me, but…” Mukuro’s face turned pink while her eyes fell somber at memories of melancholy. “Nevermind, I’m not going to say it. Let’s just enjoy ourselves tonight.”

“That’s probably the best option. After all, there aren’t any Diary Holders left to try and kill us. For now, let’s just enjoy ourselves on this date with no worries.”

Ishimaru nodded in agreement, but something knotted at his heart trying to provoke it back into anxiety. He knew, among other things, what had to be said to Mukuro, but the serene look on her slightly ruddy face of freckles made things worse. Guilty as he was for holding back, Ishimaru didn’t have it in him to bear bad news to Mukuro.

 _“There’s always a time to tell her another day,”_ Ishimaru thought, choking under internal pressure. “So, Mukuro, how have things been going?”

“They’ve been better considering we’re in the middle of a Survival Game. But besides that, they’re not awful. How have things been for you, Kiyotaka?”

“I was bedridden from Monday to this morning, so that wasn’t too good. I’m still in the dark about the circumstances, but I will no longer pester you if you’re uncomfortable with elaborating!” Ishimaru stopped himself again, pushing the subject into a more positive light. “However, I’m thoroughly enjoying our evening so far. At least I’m able to spend time with you without any troubles hindering us both!”

“Yes, this date of ours is certainly making things easier to endure. Even better that I can spend it with someone trustworthy whom I really like.”

The nervous Ishimaru, although heart warmed at Mukuro’s loving smile, started reaching into his pocket opposite his Future Diary for aid. Pulling out his deck of flashcards, Ishimaru went through them for the next step. He read words quietly to himself when he reached the correct card, putting it into the deck and nervously facing a curious Mukuro.

“So, why don't you tell me some more about yourself?” Ishimaru said, sweat dripping down his face.

“Taka, you know plenty about me at this point,” Mukuro pointed out. “Obviously, I was in Fenrir and have an extreme sweet tooth. My favorite animal is a wolf, I’m French fluent, I'm a Capricorn due to being born on Christmas Eve. Plus, I tend to act more on instinct than prior planning when it comes to combat, and I’m the Fifth Diary Holder. Oh, and I have a sister named--”

“--Ah, point taken. Okay, I guess I must skip that one for now.” Ishimaru sifted through his cards, pulling out another to use. “Okay, my dear, you look-- no, wait! I might have used that one. Erm… how's the food? No no, we already know! Argh, I should have studied these beforehand! So sloppy!”

“Kiyotaka, are those index cards? Why on Earth would you bring such things on a date?”

“Mukuro, I hadn't a choice! An important occasion such as this mustn't be messed up! That's why I took the liberty beforehand to make notes of my research!”

“Taka, you're not in the middle of an exam. Index cards will not be needed for the occasion.”

“Then how am I supposed to--”

“--Be yourself. We know each other well enough to the point of comfort and trust, so there isn't any need to stress out about one little dinner date. If I may make a request, then I just want to enjoy myself with you being comfortable around me as you’ve been before.”

Mukuro's black pearl bracelet-wrapped hand made its way to Ishimaru's sweaty plain hand. Ishimaru flinched from her gentle contact, the index cards falling out of his hand and to the floor as they lay ever forgotten. Feeling heat and color rise in his cheeks, Ishimaru lifted his fingers upwards and linked them into Mukuro's, sighing to release a bit of anxiety from the night. He looked right at her, Mukuro's smiling and sincere face washing away his remaining doubts.

“I won't make this a big deal then,” Ishimaru agreed. “If only for your sake, Muki.”

“Good,” Mukuro said, linking her fingers into Ishimaru's more until both let go. “Now, why don't we just have fun? Look, I think our food’s coming.”

The two saw their waiter coming their way, this time with a platter of food specifically ordered from the menu. Quickly remembering the index cards he so carelessly let fall below, Ishimaru bent down and gathered them again to put in his pocket for good. When he rose up in his seat again, there sat his mutton vindaloo and garlic naan side dish as Mukuro took her prawn masala. The waiter told them to enjoy their meal and left, the food’s smell wafting past the noses of who ordered it.

“It smells good,” Ishimaru commented, taking a spoonful of vindaloo before drawing back from smelling further. “Rather strong in scent, though.”

“You did say it was going to be hot,” Mukuro reminded, picking up a curry-coated prawn and eating it. Her lips swirled around with her tongue while her teeth did the chewing. “Not bad… How does yours taste?”

“Let's answer that right now.”

Ishimaru inserted the forkful of spicy sheep meat into his mouth, chewing and absorbing the flavor through its juices. The second the liquid hit the tongue and spread through the Hall Monitor’s mouth, Ishimaru blinked several times as he quickly swallowed his piece of mutton, the burning sensation making its mark all the way down his throat. He dropped his fork, reeling forwards and quieting a cough, quickly grabbing the garlic naan and biting into it to cool his mouth. A few stray tears leaked from Ishimaru’s quivering eyes, the boy himself inhaling sharply through his mouth to subdue the burning sensation of the spiced mutton.

“A little too hot for you?” Mukuro giggled, putting a hand to her mouth as she kept uttering low laughs.

“J-Just a little!” Ishimaru admitted, biting off more naan. “But, it’s good! And there isn’t any need to let this food go to waste!”

Ishimaru boisterously inserted two pieces of mutton vindaloo more fiery than he was into his mouth. He fought against the blazing sensation in his mouth with the utmost determination, more tears leaking from his eyes as a natural reaction to the excessive spice. Swallowing the two bites, Ishimaru bit into his garlic naan and chewed it furiously with a closed mouth. He let that slither down his pipe, cooling his oral cavity before he took more large bites of vindaloo, feeling himself start to sweat from the heat.

Mukuro watched Ishimaru’s “battle” unfold before her, covering her mouth and preventing a few chuckles from getting too loud to cause embarrassment in the Hall Monitor. Within the humor was slight pity at his misfortune, Mukuro having no way to talk him out of not eating the overly-spicy curry. She saw their waiter passing by, getting his attention while Ishimaru tearfully fought the food. Quietly asking for a glass of free ice water for her date, the waiter left for a moment and came back with shimmering liquid refreshment and ice in a tall glass. By the time the glass was slid over to Ishimaru, he’d finished the entire mutton vindaloo with no garlic naan left to refresh him. The minute he noticed his new water, the desperate Ishimaru grabbed it and started to chug it down to the point of half-emptiness, ice cubes and all.

“S-See…?” Ishimaru panted, slamming the glass down onto the table. “It wasn’t that spicy, Mukuro!”

“If you insist, Kiyotaka,” an amused Mukuro giggled, smiling at Ishimaru’s unintentional humor as she took another bite of her prawn masala. “Perhaps you should lay off the spices for a while.”

“I guess I could. Not that it was too spicy for my comprehension!”

Mukuro continued to laugh at Ishimaru's so-called confidence from the food. She dabbled more into her prawn masala, absorbing further amounts of marine fauna taste. Having no food left of his own, Ishimaru decided to keep the ball rolling, lest Mukuro get bored.

“Mukuro, what type of tool does a shrimp use to cut its lawn?” Ishimaru asked with a wiggling smirk, as if trying to hold back a laugh.

“What?” Mukuro wondered, mouth full of prawn curry. “Some sea bed clippers?”

“No, silly! A shrimp would use a ‘prawn mower’!”

“Eh? What on Earth is…?”

It had taken Mukuro a few moments, but she soon found herself dropping her forkful of prawn and laughing hard alongside Ishimaru. A part of her showed some disdain from the pun, but that was overcome with mostly humor.

“Okay, okay, I think I’ve got one,” Mukuro wheezed after laughing. “...Actually, I _thought_ I had a joke about your dish, but I’ve got ‘mutton’!”

Ishimaru nearly choked on his own ice water at the joke, a bit dripping down his chin as he grabbed a napkin to clean himself up. Mukuro consumed the last few bites of her prawn masala curry while smiling, swallowing the chewed up bits in her oral cavity as she remained amused at Ishimaru’s reaction to her joke. For a few seconds longer, Ishimaru kept laughing at Mukuro’s joke until he caught his breath and stopped the laughter.

“I never took you for the comedian, Muki!” Ishimaru chirped. “Okay, let me see if I can think of another one. Umm… okay, this one isn’t all that clever, but it’s nice and ‘shrimple’ for you to understand!”

“Hee-hee…” Mukuro laughed lightly, “I personally preferred the other one. You might want to step up your game, Taka. Otherwise, you’ll put me to ‘sheep’!”

“Hahahaha! I’ll admit, that one was pretty funny. Mukuro, you’re just ‘krilling’ me with all of these jokes!”

Both Ishimaru and Mukuro lost track of how much of the night had passed for them. They were far too preoccupied with their friendly “joke competition” (as Ishimaru referred to it sometime after the sixth or seventh pun about sea creatures he’d made) to notice any passage of time besides the ever-dark night sky filled with beautiful stars twinkling above. The two Hope’s Peak students laughed away at each others jokes and puns, enjoying the company of only themselves.

Unfortunately, one particular joke punchline from a certain SHSL Hall Monitor was enough to ruin the night forever.

“Ah-haha…! And this whole Survival Game! Do you know what it is, Mukuro?” Ishimaru asked, losing all care for what he was saying save for being funny.

“Wha-hat is it, Kiyotaka?” Mukuro questioned, catching her breath from the barrage of jokes. “A ‘ba-aad’ idea?”

“Close, but no! It’s become a complete ‘clam-ity’! Especially considering how pointless it is to become God anyways since you can’t even bring back anyone who’s died and gone ‘belly up’!”

“Haha, yeah! You’re right--”

It hit her. Mukuro’s hand fell to the table, her lips parted and her eyes shaking wide with shock. The Soldier’s silence made Ishimaru realize what he’d just told her, his lip going inward as he slapped a palm to his big mouth. Sweat started to roll down the side of his face, all he was able to do was stare at Mukuro with rueful fear.

“What… what do you mean… a God can’t bring anyone dead back?” Mukuro breathed, her fingers shaking and her heart dropping a few levels. “Is that true?”

“Uhhh, I-- I never said that! Surely you must be--”

“--Yes you did! I’m not deaf! I just heard you say ‘you can’t bring anyone who’s died back’! Isn’t that what you literally just said?”

“I… I… Mukuro, I--”

“-- _Kiyotaka Ishimaru_ , did you or did you not just say that?!”

Ishimaru could tell Mukuro was starting to get hysterical, evidenced by her gritting teeth and burning rage in her tear-building eyes. Her hand was balled up into a tight fist with her shaking body, which made Ishimaru even more nervous as he watched his longtime fears come true right before his eyes. Nearly everyone around Ishimaru and Mukuro restaurant was watching, but neither high school student cared about them in the slightest. Gulping down a ball of bile, Ishimaru hadn’t a choice but to face the music he so tried not to hear.

“...I did say that,” Ishimaru admitted with a sigh, his heart shaking as if it stood still in its place. “God can’t bring anyone back from the dead.”

“How long…?” Mukuro started with an exhale and a shaking lower lip.

“What?”

“How long have you known this? The whole Game?!”

“No, not that long. I only found out after I defeated Third.”

“And that was how many weeks back?! I don’t understand; why would you keep this from me?! Were you planning on betraying me just to take the throne for yourself?!”

“Of course not! I would never do that to you! I lo--” Ishimaru stopped himself when he saw tears finally leak from Mukuro’s eyes, cracks zipping through his weary heart. “I care about you far too much to do that.”

“How do I know that’s not a lie either? For all I know, you were just using me to win the Game! There’s no other reason around it for not telling me the truth!”

“I wasn’t using you! I just didn’t want to tell you because I know how much you want Naegi alive and well again! If I told you, there’s no doubt you’d have been crushed!”

“Well, I obviously wouldn’t have been as crushed then as I am now!” Mukuro’s voice started breaking alongside her heart into sobs, tears thickening and rolling down her face until some mascara started running and staining her face. Her eyes were shut as the tears made no attempt to stop with the sobbing. “To think I actually thought that you cared about me enough to not do such a horrible thing! I… I honestly just can’t believe you’d do this to me! Now I’ll never see him again, and you don’t even care that I’d lose another person dear to me if I won!”

“Mukuro, I--” Ishimaru reached his hand out to Mukuro’s bracelet one when she shoved her chair out and got up, only for his part to be slapped away harshly by the betrayed Soldier.

“Don’t say anything else to me! I can’t even look at you anymore, Kiyotaka! I trusted you, and you thought it’d be funny to take advantage of that! The best thing you can do right now is to _leave me alone_!”

In tears, Mukuro stormed away from the table and out of the restaurant with a slam. Ishimaru didn’t bat an eyelash to go after her in the night, following the crying Soldier down the street as she speed walked further from him in low heels. He pleaded and pleaded with earnest apologies, trying to fight back oncoming sobs. Mukuro ignored him completely, eyebrows furrowed down and forlornly angry as her fists remained balled. At that moment, the SHSL Soldier saw a taxi drive closer, calling out to it and making it stop right next to her as Ishimaru ceased his pace.

“Is he with you, ma’am?” the driver asked when his female customer got in.

“No. Drive me to Hope’s Peak Academy, please,” Mukuro instructed, slamming the door and locking it before fastening her seat belt.

When the taxi drove off, Ishimaru began running towards it. Much to his misfortune, the car Mukuro was in was much faster than he was, taking off in a cloud of smog. Coughing, Ishimaru’s heart crumbled into what felt like dust within his chest as he watched his angered love drive away from him. Although the moment seemed inappropriate, Ishimaru took out his Friendship Diary, only to be faced with an entry of “21:12: Mukuro discovers the truth about the Survival Game and storms off feeling betrayed. Oh, how could I have messed up so badly with her?!”. Lip quivering, Ishimaru shut the Diary and put it away in his pocket, tears dripping down his mucus secreting face as he shakily made his own way back to Hope’s Peak Academy.

* * *

Much later that night, a cleaned up Mukuro changed into a black tank top and green camouflage pajama pants, putting her Tactics Diary on her nightstand next to her lamp. She looked on her bed in the dark, seeing the beady-eyed gray wolf plush Ishimaru had given to her the day they started to grown closer. Fighting back anymore tears from falling, Mukuro grabbed the wolf and stuffed it into an open drawer before slamming it shut. She fell to her bed, gripping her knees in a sideways fetal position and shutting her tearful eyes, feeling her soul go to another dimension.

In minutes, Mukuro found herself in the Cathedral Of Causality. Walking around the violet-lit throne room of Kamukura, she called out to the boy god to find him. Instead, her heart relaxed slightly when another person came to her: Junko, who appeared just as Mukuro remembered seeing her last.

“What’s up, big sis?” Junko purred with a wave.

“Hello, Junko-chan,” Mukuro greeted back somberly. “Where’s Kamukura-kun?”

“Oh, Izu-chan’s… busy. He’ll be back soon,” Junko lied, smirking. “Luckily, your favorite little sister’s here ta keep you company! Especially after that trainwreck of a date you just had tonight!”

“Please don’t remind me…” Mukuro sighed, eyes facing the ground. “I just feel so… betrayed. Especially since I, well, _care_ about Kiyo--”

“--Yeah yeah, I know, whatever. But hey, that’s what happens when ya fall for a second guy an’ lose him just as quick as the first. Face it, Muki. You’re better off stickin’ with me only. You know I’d obviously never do something like that to ya~.”

When Junko hugged Mukuro, an unnerving shock surged through the latter’s body. Typically, being near Junko felt more than natural to the loving sister that was Mukuro, but this time around… it felt almost alien. Junko furrowed her eyebrows and gripped Mukuro tighter in a loveless hug, only for the Soldier to back away from her grasp with mixed discomfort. Junko saw her sister refuse her eye contact, hiding pale gray-blue eyes behind locks of short black hair.

“What? Can’t hug your loving little sister?” Junko questioned with folded arms. “Jeez. And here I am thinking you actually gave a crap about me. Guess I was wrong…” Her tone feigned sadness, glancing back to see if she provoked a reaction from Mukuro.

“No no, I do love you!” Mukuro insisted, looking right at her younger twin now. “It’s just… I can’t go back on Naegi-kun’s words. He said-- he said I shouldn’t be your ‘puppet’ anymore, Junko. I recall he said I deserve much better and to be my own person.”

“Bah, what does he know? Neggs ain’t here anymore, now is he? That’s right, he’s gone, remember?! And don’t forget the person who kept that from ya either!”

“I couldn’t forget him, no matter how furious I am with him…” Mukuro’s voice was initially a growl, but it softened to a melancholic sigh as a pink coloring came to her cheeks. “I love Naegi-kun dearly, but I also love Kiyotaka just as much. There’s no denying that, Junko-chan. What Taka did was _unforgivable,_  but… oh, what do I do?! If I win the Game, I’ll-- I’ll lose them both forever!”

“Yep! It’s bad enough havin’ a dead boyfriend, but _two_? Upupupu, that’s double the despair, ain’t it~?” Junko cackled, feeling her own twinges of despair from her personal experience on the matter as a past loved one came to her mind. She walked over to Mukuro, putting a hand gingerly atop her older sister’s shoulder. “Luckily for you, Muki, your favorite sister’s got a plan to resolve this.”

“Hmm… well, Junko-chan, I don’t know--” Mukuro started with seeds of doubt sprouting in her mind. “Err, that is, I’m not sure if your idea is--”

“--What, a good one? Trust me, it’s perfect! After we’re through, everyone’ll have their happy ending! Just… hold still for a little, won’t you~?”

With an upwards pinch on the shoulder from Junko, Mukuro gasped as her once clear icy blue eyes went dull and darker like the aura resonating from behind her. Junko trailed her index finger and thumb up Mukuro’s neck until she reached the back of the Fifth Diary Holder’s head, pulling out a crimson shard with a dark essence swirling in the middle as the jewel floated upwards and downwards in her palm. Junko made her new shard disappear with a wave of her hand, looking at the dull-eyed Mukuro in a slumped stance as she did nothing.

“I think you’re ready to go back, big sister,” Junko purred with a giggle, conjuring her tattered black cape of divinity and red queen’s crown before sending Mukuro back to the moral realm. “Phase Two complete!”

Junko floated up to her large circular throne and pulled down the large viewing screen Kamukura once used in her stead. Activating it, she watched her sister open her dimmed blue eyes for a brief moment before falling back into a deep sleep. Smiling with satisfaction, Junko switched the screen over to Ishimaru’s room, where the Sixth Diary Holder lay in his bed and pajamas looking at his Friendship Diary held above his eyes. She saw him close it and put it on the nightstand before putting a somber hand over guilty, tired eyes. Finally shutting off the giant screen, Junko put both palms to her cheeks and started giggling, those giggles turning to maniacal cackles as thoughts of her plan started falling into place.


	32. Day & Night 55: Fighting A Manipulated Mind!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> Gamekrazy306: You can say that again. And it's only gonna get more real from here to the next chapter. BTW, this story is going to be 35 chapters long, including the epilogue I have planned.
> 
> SHSL Guest: (MOTHER OF GOD XD) I typically have a high tolerance to spicy food. My family tells me I put too much Tabasco sauce on nearly everything, especially ramen (along with hot sauce and other spices). Does garlic naan taste anything like garlic bread? Anyways, let's just see where things go for poor unfortunate Kiyotaka, shall we?

Every minute of the following four days was miserable for Ishimaru, leaving his room Tuesday for homeroom with memories of Friday night’s events clanging against his mind. Desperate for change, Ishimaru opened his Friendship Diary with wishful hopes of Mukuro finally speaking to him again. Sadly, all his phone would tell him was a disappointing prediction of “08:01: Mukuro hardly says two sentences to me when I greet her. Gee, I really screwed things up with her, didn’t I?”. He looked down at more entries, seeing another depressing one such as “08:52: Mukuro doesn’t even glance at me when I wait for her after class. This is only proof I need to fix things right away!” and “09:16: Mukuro rejects my greeting and completely walks past the Disciplinary Committee. I honestly don’t blame her if she wants to pretend I no longer exist…”.

“I still need to get to class,” Ishimaru said to himself as his first prediction’s fulfillment neared when he approached the empty classroom. “Even if it continues to kill me.”

Ishimaru entered the classroom forlornly, putting his stuff down and stashing his Friendship Diary into his pristine white uniform pants. A minute later, as the red-striped white cell phone predicted, Mukuro came in with her typical phlegmatic expression. Inhaling through his nostrils, Ishimaru stood up and walked over to Mukuro’s desk as she started to sit down, giving her a shaky wave as she stared at him with a hollow blink of the eyes.

“Good morning, Mukuro!” Ishimaru got out, putting on a smile. “I… I hope you’ve been doing better since, well, you know!”

“Umm, sure,” Mukuro said without certainty, turning away from Ishimaru with indifference. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I just want you to know I truly regret what I did on our date Friday evening! Even if you can’t forgive me for it, I--”

Not bothering to give Ishimaru anymore eye contact, Mukuro took her seat and began reading into her studies. Ishimaru felt his heart crumble even further from being coldly brushed off by the object of his affections, sighing and taking his seat again. He kept watching her, looking at Mukuro read her book and turn pages while focused, feeling all the more horrible about his actions from before.

Minutes later, the rest of the class started arriving at different intervals. When they saw Ishimaru and Mukuro once again not speaking to each other, most of them felt true empathy for the situation. Even Leon came over to Ishimaru’s seat with pity for the latter before class began, seeing how downtrodden the Hall Monitor looked.

“Dude, sorry about your breakup,” Leon said.

“Kuwata-kun, we weren’t actually dating,” Ishimaru corrected with a frown. “Regardless, words can’t sum up how horrible of a person I feel like!”

“Did ya try apologizing and sounding like ya meant it?”

“Yes, I did! But when I talked to Mukuro on Saturday, she just brushed me off and gave me a funny look!”

“Oooh, that’s rough buddy. Look, if ya want my advice, try again later on and make it honest. If Ikusaba’s suddenly ignorin’ ya after she was all over ya before, then this is obviously a big deal.”

“I have every intention in the book to apologize! When I do, I’ll pour every last drop of my heart out to Mukuro and show how much she means to me!” Ishimaru’s head sunk lower as he looked at the phone protruding from his pocket. “Around here, she’s the only one I have left. If I lost her like this now, I just don’t know what I’d do!”

“Then if I were you, I’d step up to the plate _pronto_. Good luck, Ishi.”

When Leon went back to his own seat in a slouch, Ishimaru’s ears picked up on a little conversation nearby after seeing Sayaka go over to Mukuro’s seat with sympathy. Leaning his head a little further, he adapted to the volume of the girls’ conversation to listen in on more words.

“Ikusaba-san, how bad was it?” Sayaka asked. “It seems like Ishimaru-kun did something really bad to hurt you. Though it’s funny; never took someone so well-mannered for that kind of guy.”

“Umm… I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Mukuro said with a raised brow. “But, from what you are saying, it was most likely horrible. I always thought Ishimaru-kun was a gentleman.”

“Oh, I get it. He did something so bad you’re trying not to remember it. I’m so sorry, Ikusaba-san. I hope things turn out better in the end.”

“Better for whom? What’s the deal with Ishimaru-kun?”

“Ah, it’s worse than I thought. I get it, I’ll just let you be. See you later?”

Sayaka left Mukuro’s seat in favor of her own, sneaking in a head shake of disapproval when she saw Ishimaru. The SHSL Hall Monitor’s own head bowed further into the ground with shame from the Idol’s body language, burying his face in his palms when the teacher came in to start class. He gave Mukuro another one-sided glance, his broken heart stirring within from her indifference.

* * *

After homeroom sometime later, Ishimaru packed up his things and slung his bag over both shoulders. Holding a few books in his hand, he watched Mukuro do the same action and leave her seat. Eyes filled with wishful hope, Ishimaru wanted so badly for Mukuro to give him a second (or perhaps third and fourth if lucky enough) glance in order to make proper amends. Sadly, the harsh reality ensued and there Ishimaru went ignored as Mukuro left class without a word or look directed at him. His heart sank further, speed-walking ahead to the Disciplinary Committee and perking up slightly when he saw Mukuro was heading in the same direction. He arrived at the Committee room before she did, standing right in front of the doorway as she approached.

“Muki! Muki, over here!” Ishimaru called out to her with a wave when Mukuro got close enough.

“Uhh… it’s pronounced ‘Mukuro’, sir,” Mukuro told him, bewildered at the use of such a nickname. “I’d prefer that you use the more formal ‘Ikusaba’ and an honorific, unless you’d rather look improper.”

“N-No, I wouldn’t. But, aren’t we close enough to drop honor--”

The bell rang, sending the distant Mukuro off to her other destination. Ishimaru’s heart pulsed particularly painful, his hand gripping it from anguish. Looking at the time, he hurried into the room to perform his duties earlier than usual, keeping down the amount of guilt and sadness he was feeling.

“Good morning, Ishimaru-kun,” one of the members greeted until they saw his face. “Hey, you don't look so good. Did something happen?”

“It's nothing,” Ishimaru sighed, going over to his station. “Just some things I’ve been dealing with since Friday, so they aren’t any of your concern.”

“What happened on Friday, sir? Isn’t Ikusaba-san going to join us today?”

“...No, she isn’t. Let’s just say I kept something from her and now she no longer wants to speak to me.”

“O-Oh… I’m sorry to hear that, Ishimaru-kun. Uhh, I hope things get better for you two. You both looked really cute together besides being a great team.”

Ishimaru nodded forlornly, taking some detention slips from the pile and writing down several names and penalties onto the board. He inspected each one as diligently as ever, but his sullen eyes kept drooping slightly downwards as his mind refused to let go of his remorse. Ishimaru looked over to where Mukuro would be normally when helping him, seeing only an empty spot before him. Sighing again, Ishimaru focused some of his attention on the task at hand, refusing to stop despite his emotional turmoil inside of him.

* * *

Despite the long, mentally heavy day that befell Ishimaru, the bell rang later in the afternoon, signalling the end of classes until the next day. Ishimaru gathered his belongings, watching Mukuro leave class to go about her day as his Future Diary predicted. As much as his heart beckoned him to go after her and pour out to her, his guilty brain prevented him from going anywhere near her for the moment. Instead, Ishimaru left the classroom to put his belongings in his dorm for safe-keeping, leaving it once again and heading towards the school exit.

Once outside Hope’s Peak Academy, Ishimaru made his way into the nearby flower shop around the corner, paying ¥300 each for two bouquets of floral arrangements. He thanked the clerk and left the shop, walking down a several blocks and crossing a busy street safely until he found himself before the gates of a cemetery. Ishimaru took slow steps grave after grave, stopping when he stood in front of a peon-shaped headstone reading “In this Earth lie the remains of Fujisaki Chihiro: Beloved son and friend.” above the late Hacker’s date of birth to the day he died prematurely. Kneeling down, Ishimaru laid the white lily bouquet on the earth in front of the stone besides another memorial token with the words “Forever and always wishing you were back with us, Chihiro. I love you with all my heart. --Papa.” written around a sash tied to it.

“Good afternoon, Chihiro-kun,” Ishimaru greeted wistfully, sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of his friend’s grave. “I do hope you’re doing well up there with Kyoudai. Listen, if it’s alright, may I speak to you about something?”

As expected of it, Chihiro’s grave did not offer a verbal response to Ishimaru, nor did anything change. Nonetheless, Ishimaru took a breath inwards while tears started to ball up in his scarlet eyes. With that did he start explaining his current situation with Mukuro, from his feelings for her to his greatest blunder. Along each word expressed, Ishimaru felt a clench within from the reminder he’d lost more than one person dear to him. He stared at the silent grave, shakily nodding as if Chihiro had been speaking to him.

“Yes, I know I must apologize,” Ishimaru agreed. “But, do you think she’ll forgive me after what I’ve done?” No verbal response came, but Ishimaru still nodded his head. “Well, I trust you, Chihiro-kun. I really do! If you think that if I’m sincere enough to get her to see how sorry I am, then I’ll go for it.” Ishimaru looked off into the distance, getting on one knee and hugging the headstone tenderly. “I’ll see you another time, Chihiro-kun. I’m just going to pay Mondo a visit first.”

Ishimaru got up completely and walked away from Chihiro’s grave with another goodbye. He roamed the entirety of the large cemetery, grave by grave, stone by stone. His head turned around, rejecting the incorrect names on the headstones and leaving them alone. Soon enough, Ishimaru finally came across a black crematory urn, behind it a firmly buried stick supporting a familiar lengthy biker gang jacket with several mysterious orange markings all over it. The iron grave plate in the ground read “In this urn are the ashes Oowada Mondo, second leader of the feared Crazy Diamonds” next to another urn in front of a supported white version of its twin jacket marked by the plate reading “Here lies the young Oowada Daiya, founder and first leader of the Crazy Diamonds”.

“Hello, Kyoudai,” Ishimaru greeted, putting the assortment of sweet peas near Mondo's urn before saluting Daiya’s. “And good day to you too, big brother of my brother! I trust you two have seen each other again?”

Both graves showed no sign of response, as expected by Ishimaru. Regardless, the SHSL Hall Monitor took no time to turn to the urn containing his best friend's charred remains. He started talking to what was left of Mondo, explaining his situation with a heavy heart and asking for wisdom. Ishimaru added what he believed Chihiro would have told him if alive, asking Mondo's grave further on the matter of his apology. After a brief pause, Ishimaru pieced together sensical words of what Mondo would have likely told him.

“You agree with Chihiro-kun, huh?” Ishimaru breathed before picking his voice up and folding his arms briefly. “Of course I’m a real man! I intend to make up for what I so foolishly did!” Ishimaru waited out a few more silent seconds, as if listening to Mondo speak. “So, you think a direct and forward apology is the way to go? Yes, that just might work, but how would I go about it, Kyoudai?”

Ishimaru pretended to listen to imaginary words, formulating a way to carry out his plan. He counted on his fingers, nodding his head while pinching his cheek in inquiry. Ishimaru looked back at Mondo's grave, smiling sincerely once he figured things out from non-existent words of wisdom.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it now!” Ishimaru proclaimed, standing up with a clenched fist. “I’m gonna pour my heart out to Mukuro while being as forward as can be! Mondo, I can't thank you and Chihiro-kun enough!” Before thinking about leaving, Ishimaru looked at Mondo's grave once more, a smile of sadness crossing his face as tears started trailing downwards. “I’m… I still miss you and Chihiro dearly. One day, we just might meet again. Farewell, Mondo.”

Ishimaru knelt once more to stroke the crematory urn where Mondo's remains lied. He got up again to leave the cemetery behind, making his way past the gates and back into the city. While on his long walk back to school, Ishimaru checked the Friendship Diary for updates on Mukuro’s well being, feeling a wave of hope wash over him when he spotted the entry “17:08: Mukuro finally lets me talk to her and get out my apology. Now’s my chance to make up with her!” right above “17:11: Mukuro seems to have accepted my apology, but now asks to meet me later on. Surely she wishes to hang out with me then!”. His heart fluttered from the messages, Ishimaru shutting his phone and putting it away as he stepped closer to the school.

* * *

Inside Hope’s Peak at last, Ishimaru looked at his Future Diary to find Mukuro. Hurrying up to the second floor, Ishimaru came across the room where Mukuro did her daily training, the Soldier in question in the middle of a session. Ishimaru watched Mukuro from near the doorway as she threw flawless punches at a wooden training dummy, deflecting each spin “attack” the wood had to toss at her. Each punch, each kick, Mukuro struck each one to keep from being hit until the wooden dummy stopped spinning around. Within seconds, she moved onto the softer training dummy behind her, giving it a flurry of punches and kicks alongside several grunts. Mukuro paused for a mere moment, very swiftly kicking the padded training dummy upwards and grabbing it from behind. In a single backwards bend, Mukuro suplexed the otherwise heavy dummy into its head and tossed it to the back wall, where it slid down with a _THUD._

“My God…” Ishimaru breathed, a rosy color flushing in his cheeks as he watched Mukuro with an amazed smile. “I almost forgot how strong Muki is!” He cleared his throat, loud enough to nab her attention as she drank some water from her plastic bottle.

“May I help you, Ishimaru-kun?” Mukuro wondered, curious while she capped her bottle.

 _“Oh great, she must be really mad at me if she doesn’t use my first name…”_ Ishimaru sighed in his head before speaking. “Yes, Mukuro. I would like to speak to you! It’s quite urgent that you hear me out!”

“Is something the matter? What do you want to talk to me about that’s such an emergency?” Mukuro was drying the sweat off her body with a towel while Ishimaru bucked up from his anxious expression. She was more than surprised to see him get to his knees and bow his head at her, not looking up once.

“Please forgive me, Mukuro!” Ishimaru pleaded, tears leaking fast from his eyes along with a few dabs of drool caused by the immense guilt. “I know you most likely think I’m the biggest idiot you’ve ever known, but I swear I didn’t mean to lock you out of the loop!” He finally looked up at her bewildered expression, clasping her hands together with his as he gave a gaze of pure sincerity. “I only did so to avoid upsetting you, but I should have realized that not telling you was a lot worse! Oh, what kind of friend am I by lying to you?!”

“Uhh… I beg your pardon, Ishi--”

“--Allow me to finish! Even if you turn out to be too mad to forgive me after all, just know how sorry I am for keeping such an important secret from you! Mukuro, I never intended to hurt you at all! That whole time, I thought I was protecting you from being heartbroken, but in the end, it turned out my actions were the things that hurt you more… S-So, I must know, are you willing to forgive me? Even if not now? Please, Mukuro, I just can’t afford to lose you after all--”

“--Ishimaru-kun, it’s okay. This took me by quite a surprise, but I’m in no way angry,” Mukuro assured him, seeing Ishimaru blink many times with surprise. “I’m a little confused by what you’re trying to say, but just know I’m not mad at you.”

“Ah! So you’re accepting my apology? Sincerely and truly accepting it?” Ishimaru gasped, taking out his Friendship Diary and checking the respective entry about the event.

“I guess so. Consider your, umm… apology, accepted. Is that all, Ishimaru-kun--”

Mukuro was denied a completed sentence by Ishimaru rushing over and hugging her tightly with glee, the pounding in his chest excited and joyous with a clear conscience. The Soldier hadn’t a clue what was happening, but it didn’t stop her from pushing Ishimaru off with a bewildered look on her face. She brushed off her body, looking at him still.

“Oh, my apologies,” Ishimaru chuckled. “I guess we’re not back on the ‘physical contact’ level yet, Mukuro! At least my Friendship Diary still has yet to be wrong about your forgiveness, right?”

“Your… what?”

“Silly! Don’t act as if you don’t know! You used to call me ‘Sixth’ instead of my name all the time!” Ishimaru flipped open his white and red-striped cell phone, showing Mukuro the many entries about her whereabouts and actions with a smile. “Remember? My Friendship Diary? It tells me important information regarding my dearest companions! ...Well, you anyways. Kyoudai and Chihiro-kun are no longer with us…”

 _“Another Diary Holder? And a Diary with entries all about me?”_ Mukuro wondered in her head, eyes parted with shock before they slanted. “...Yes, that’s right. Listen, Ishimaru-kun, may I request something of you?”

“Why, of course! Anything for you, Muki! What is it?”

“I need to talk to you about something. Alone. Wait by my room until I get changed, okay?”

Nodding proudly, Ishimaru let Mukuro leave the training room in favor of the changing rooms, not noticing the girl give him a cold glance back while she walked away. He left the premises of the training room, going downstairs to the Dormitory Wing as he awaited Mukuro’s arrival.

Within minutes, Mukuro arrived wearing her usual attire, Ishimaru’s spirits lifting more when he saw her walking towards the room. He let her pass and open the door, going in right after she did. Ishimaru saw Mukuro lock her door, thrown off slightly at her action and even more when she looked at him with cold, unfeeling eyes instead of warmer, much more amicable eyes. A strange chill ran down his spine from her gaze as she stepped forward in slow steps.

“Mukuro, is everything alright with you?” Ishimaru asked her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Your phone…” Mukuro breathed, reaching for her Fenrir knife with a flinty look on her face. “And you said I called you ‘Sixth’?”

“Y-Yes, you used to! Before we befriended each other! Erm, why are you reaching for your knife?”

“Because, it appears I’ve finally found the last one.” Mukuro unveiled her Fenrir knife all the way, raising it high in her hand. “The Sixth Diary Holder, Kiyotaka Ishimaru!”

Before Ishimaru had time to think, Mukuro charged right at him with her knife, the shocked Hall Monitor jumping out of the way in time for it. At that exact second, his Diary updated its future with a loud static noise all too familiar to both Holders, Ishimaru checking it quickly to see unexpected predictions.

“‘17:19: Mukuro comes right at me with her Fenrir knife intending to kill me. What on Earth has gotten into her?! We just made up, didn’t we?!’,” Ishimaru read to himself. “My Diary’s right! What has gotten into you, Mukuro?!”

“I don’t know why you keep insisting on calling me by my first name as if we were close companions, nor do I know how your petty Future Diary knows my every move,” Mukuro told him. “But, I do know this: You’re not going to stand in my way of bringing my dear Naegi-kun back when I’m the new Goddess!”

“Bringing him-- Mukuro! You can’t bring people back from the dead even as God! You got mad at me because I didn’t tell you that sooner! How could you just forget that!”

“Enough prattle. Time to die, Sixth.”

Mukuro lunged forward with her Fenrir knife, lucky enough to slash Ishimaru deep across the cheek using the tip. The cut bled as Ishimaru let out a cry of pain, sealing any dripping blood in with his hand while dodging any further swings of the knife from Mukuro. When she stopped for a second, Mukuro took out her black Tactics Diary and opened it, taken aback by some of the entries listed in it.

“‘17:19: I attack Kiyotaka with a simple swing from my knife. To evade injury, he must bend backwards so his face is too far to hit.’?” Mukuro repeated. “‘17:22: I go for a jump dive with my knife in an attempt to stab Kiyotaka in the heart. He needs to do a roll to the right so he’s safe.’?! Why are these entries about you, Sixth?! And why your first name?!”

“Stop pretending like you don’t know the reason, Mukuro! I thought you wanted to protect me, so that’s why there are entries about me in there too!”

“Impossible.” Mukuro showed the open black flip phone to Ishimaru before lowering it slightly. “This is my Tactics Diary. It’s only supposed to give _me_ efficient battle strategies, and no one else. It’s the Future Diary of War.”

“Mukuro, our alliance and close friendship! Why are you pretending like you don’t know anything that’s happened in the past months?! If this is some sort of joke, it isn’t the least bit funny!”

“I never joke, Sixth. I haven’t a clue what you did to my Diary, but it’s not going to stop me from winning this Game!”

Mukuro sprung onto her bed and leaped upwards, gravity pulling her down with the knife pointed at Ishimaru’s aorta. Just as the girl’s Diary predicted, Ishimaru quickly rolled out of the way and made his way back to the door, twisting the lock undone and running to his room. Once there, he shut the wooden barrier and locked it. He read the Friendship Diary again, spotting a prediction saying “17:24: Mukuro attempts to break my door down, but is having little luck so far. Why is she acting so strange tonight?! Even this is a little much from a Friday squabble!”. Scurrying around his bedroom, Ishimaru found the katana he borrowed from the dojo right next to the giant penguin Mukuro had given him before. Linking his blade to his pants, Ishimaru looked at the bird plush forlornly, recalling how different things were then. He was only snapped from his thoughts when he heard several harsh pounds on the door, knowing they could only be coming from Mukuro.

“I can’t stay here!” Ishimaru gasped, climbing on his bed and opening the window above his headboard. “Windows are apparently the number one way to escape!”

As the door pounding continued, Ishimaru leaped from the window and onto the short-distanced ground below. He didn’t bat an eyelash to run away from his room and the school, panting all the way with only his katana and Future Diary on him.

 _“I don't know why Mukuro's suddenly acting so strange and wants to kill me again,”_ Ishimaru thought as he made it to the city near Hope’s Peak, _“but there's no way I can turn back right now! Whatever's gotten into her isn't going to get me!”_

When he passed an alleyway, Ishimaru gasped as he felt a hand grab him by the gakuran. He tried screaming for help, but a soft, expensive lotion-scented hand with red polished pointed nails covered his mouth and sustained the noise. Before he knew it, everything for Ishimaru went totally black.

* * *

Soon after the light came back, Ishimaru discovered he’d been taken to the Cathedral Of Causality instead of remaining in the darkening dusk of sky that conquered the city of Osaka in preparation for another night. Looking around, Ishimaru called out some known names, only for no response to come.

“Ya lost there, Ishi?” a feminine voice asked, its owner appearing in a shroud of darkness before Ishimaru.

“Enoshima-kun?” Ishimaru wondered. “Where's Kamukura-kun?”

“Tch, what am I? My master’s keeper? Ugh, anyways, I wouldn't worry about him. It seems like you're in quite a pickle, Sixth!”

“That's an understatement! Mukuro suddenly wants to kill me after we made up from an argument! What's happened to her?”

“Oh, you'll find that out soon enough. First, why don't I tell you a little more about my big sis while we're talking about her?”

“Your big sis--” Ishimaru gasped, realizing what Junko revealed to him. “You and Mukuro are sisters?!”

“Twins to be exact, but we're _definitely_ fraternal ones! Anyways, just come with me. I wanna show you something.”

Junko grabbed Ishimaru by the hand and flew upwards with him to her giant throne. Suddenly, she made everything go darker than oblivion. The only sources of light that fixed it were small, rectangular screens showing numerous images of unknown people and events. In most of them, teenagers his age were brawling against each other until one fell dead from either mortal wounds or a broken Future Diary. Curious, Ishimaru looked through each of them, noticing Mukuro taking down four identical serpentine men with wispy locks in one go. Although his heart gave fluttery beats of amazement from Mukuro's prowess, it shifted to a normal beat system when he saw her in another screen. This time, Mukuro was smiling with a boy with spiky brown hair and friendly green eyes that matched his hoodie, who gave Mukuro a hug and spoke words muted by the screen.

“That must be Naegi-kun,” Ishimaru pointed out, looking at the boy making the Soldier as happy as could be.

“Yep. Poor unlucky Seventh number one,” Junko pointed out.

“There was another Seventh? But how? This is the only Survival Game, right?”

“Nope! See these other memories?” Junko made Ishimaru focus on screens displaying bloodshed, gore, and violence all around, among them the deaths of Naegi and Komaeda on separate screens. “All of this happened in the first Survival Game. Otherwise known as, mine, Kamukura, and Mukuro-chan’s Game.”

“You all-- you’ve all done this before?! Then why start another one?! You could have just let things be!”

“Hey, it was Izu-chan’s idea. I just went with it because it seemed like a good gig. Though I gotta admit: The second Game was a hell lot more fun ta watch!” Junko found a screen displaying her gutting a cold-looking boy with shoulder-length black hair alive using a knife, her memory self cackling and smiling despite the tears running down her face with splattering blood as she moved from evisceration to repetitive stabbing in the heart. She fondly embraced the screen, nuzzling her head against it with a ruddy sigh. “Even my darling Yasuke’s death had nothing on this Game~! Aaah, and his had to have been the most despairing for little ol’ me~!”

“You… You're a sick woman, Enoshima-kun!” Ishimaru gagged, pointing an accusing finger at Junko as she turned to him smiling. “Just because you get some sort of horrifying thrill from innocent lives pitted against each other doesn't mean it's right! When I find Kamukura-kun, I’m going to personally force him to fix this!”

“Pffft-- HAHA! I’d like to see you try that, Brow Boy! Trust me, there's no way in hell you’d succeed!”

“I have my ways, Second. I have my ways.”

“Hee-hee, if you say so since you're _sooo_ bold! Good luck with that!”

Junko cleared the area, changing it back to the Cathedral in a heartbeat. Ishimaru looked back and forth to adjust to the surroundings again. Junko floated around the area merrily, her plan bouncing in her head as she let out unnerving giggles. Ishimaru's brow twitched from her unsettling joy, his throat releasing a growl that got her to stop giggling.

“Geez, lighten up, will ya?” Junko scoffed before grinning again. “Though considering you’ve gotta fight my sister now, I guess I don't blame ya.”

“I can't fight Mukuro!” Ishimaru objected, “Even with her odd behavior, she's still the love of my life, and--”

“--Blah blah, I know. You can't fight her because she's ‘all you have left’ or whatever. Yaaawn, what's your point? It's not like you have a choice. You're fighting her no matter what!”

“No! If I lose her--”

“--Beautiful. Now come on, Sixth! Go get ‘er!”

Before Ishimaru could object further, Junko waved her hand once and sent him back to the inside of Hope’s Peak Academy, now surrounded by a moonlit night sky of stars. He saw no one out in the halls at the time, all by himself with only anxiety as his companion.

Ishimaru looked at his Friendship Diary, finding the entry “17:51: Mukuro ambushes me from behind, knife and all. I don't know what's wrong with her, but I can't keep dodging forever!”. Ishimaru turned around and, right on cue, there came Mukuro, armed with only her Fenrir knife and grenade belt around the usual white blouse she was wearing. As she got ready to thrust the blade at Ishimaru, the Hall Monitor grabbed her by the arm and tossed her forwards with all his might. Mukuro went flying across the hall, pushing herself up while looking at her Tactics Diary.

“‘17:51: I charge at Kiyotaka with my Fenrir knife drawn. If he grabs me by the arm and gives a straight toss, he should be fine.’?!” Mukuro read, more than confused. “What's with all of these bizarre entries? I don't even know this guy! Argh, at least the next one is helpful.”

Mukuro saw a prediction saying “17:55: Kiyotaka tries to go in for a chest slash with his blade. Guard your chest with your knife and deflect it.”, seeing Ishimaru bolt up the stairs away from her. Mukuro chased after him, drawing her own weapon and running upstairs while following the sound of his footprints. They got as far as the third floor, where Mukuro cornered Ishimaru near the physics lab before stepping forward to attack. Thinking faster in the heat of the moment, Ishimaru ran at Mukuro with his katana drawn, letting out a yell of hidden regret as he raised his arm to try and slash her. But as the SHSL Soldier’s Future Diary predicted, Mukuro guarded her chest using her jagged Fenrir knife, Ishimaru’s longer blade prevented from doing its slash as Mukuro deflected it. While Mukuro looked at her Tactics Diary for more prophet phone entries, Ishimaru kept trying to swing his katana, even going as far as performing a missed jab before Mukuro moved to the side without looking at him.

“You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that, Sixth,” Mukuro told him without emotion to her tone as she pocketed her black flip phone. “Not that you stand a chance against me anyways.”

“Trust me, I stand more of a chance than you think!” Ishimaru retorted, parrying Mukuro’s sudden blade thrust in the nick of time. He used the katana to pull off a downwards swing to throw Mukuro off temporarily, running straight for the elevator right after.

With Mukuro hot on his trail, Ishimaru gripped his sword and kept bolting forward to the elevator. He used the extension of the blade to press the up button sooner, his escape mechanism opening up wide enough for him to get inside. Jamming the door close button, Ishimaru considered himself lucky when the doors closed not even seconds before Mukuro could touch it. Pressing a button he saw first, Ishimaru was carried up to the rooftop by the elevator, which stopped and opened after the destination was reached.

Ishimaru looked at his Friendship Diary, seeing now that Mukuro was due to meet him in the area in less than a few minutes. Putting away his white flip phone for the time being, Ishimaru only had to wait briefly before a shroud of darkness was summoned right before him. Out of it came the icy-eyed Mukuro, gripping her Fenrir blade and glaring straight at him next to a floating hooded figure in a tattered black cape.

“Kamukura-kun?” Ishimaru asked just as the figure started to remove their hood. When they revealed themselves, Ishimaru let out a slight gasp.

“Ehh! Wrong, Sixth!” Junko cackled, revealing herself crown and all with a dark pink cell phone in her manicured left hand. “It’s only me, the Second Diary Holder, Junko Enoshima! Or maybe I should say, your neeew Goddess!”

“New one?! What have you done with Kamukura-kun?!”

“Bah, he’s history! Wouldn’t have gotten anything done with him around, anyways. C’mon, don’t you agree that it’s better I’ve got all the powers Izu-chan had~?” When Ishimaru gave Junko a flinty glare, she merely rolled her eyes with a smirk on her face. “Guess that’s a no. Whatevs, I’m not even gonna be like this after tonight. Isn’t that right, Muki~?”

“Correct, dear sister,” Mukuro answered as Junko stroked her face, raising her knife when Ishimaru started to move towards the Fashionista in outrage. “When I’m a Goddess, you’re going to make things better for everyone, aren’t you?”

“You know I’m a girl of my word, big sis!”

“Mukuro, you can’t do this!” Ishimaru objected with a plea in his voice, “Enoshima-kun’s going to ruin everything if you let her have a say!”

“Silence, peasant!” Junko bellowed in a snobbish voice not unlike that of a queen as she put fists to her sides. “Don’t you realize that won’t work? At least not without my darling sister’s memories of you, it won’t!”

“Her memories?! What did you do?! Why doesn’t she remember me?!” Ishimaru demanded to know as he unsheathed his katana in anger. “What did you do to make her attack me?!”

“See this little baby?” Junko conjured a red prism with a dark blue-black aura swirling around inside of it, tossing it up and down in her catching hand. “In this little jewel’s my stupid sister’s pathetic memories of every moment she’s had with you. They were getting in the way of my fun, so I just, y’know, locked ‘em up!” Junko’s pigtails curled upwards, her blue eyes going beady as she put palms to her cheeks with a cat-like smile. “Isn’t it just oh-so very awesome? Now nothing’s gonna interrupt my reign! I’ll be living the high life ‘til the end of time!”

“You… I’ll get you for this!” Ishimaru roared at Junko, fury burning in his eyes. “I refuse to subject Mukuro to such a horrendous eternity with you! If she doesn’t remember now, then… then I’ll bring her memories right back to her!”

“YEAH FUCKIN’ RIGHT, YA BASTARD!” Junko exclaimed, her pigtails jagged as she let her tongue hang out while sign of the horns with both hands. “MUKURO’S GONNA DO EVERYTHIN’ I SAY! YOU’LL BE DEAD BEFORE YOU GET THIS MEMORY SHARD!”

“Shall I proceed with assassinating Sixth, Junko-chan?” Mukuro asked, holding onto her visible knife with a glare at Ishimaru.

“Knock ‘im dead, Mukuro-chan!” Junko purred, gripping her fist and holding onto her Torture Diary. “He’s the only thing stopping you from getting Naegi back!”

“Mukuro, don’t listen to her!” Ishimaru pleaded, “She’s controlling you! I’m the one who’s really on your side!”

The only person Mukuro didn’t listen to was Ishimaru, running at him with the Fenrir knife that reflected moonlight in the night sky. Ishimaru sustained a gash to the side, tearing into his gakuran as he let out a yell of pain. He let the blood seep from his gakuran, fleeing back into the building and rushing down the stairs with Mukuro and Junko following as a triad of Future Diary static noises sounded off during the chase.

Turning a corner, Ishimaru appeared to have lost the sisters for the time being. He read his recently updated Friendship Diary, seeing helpful predictions about Mukuro that would soon transpire. Closing it and holding the phone tight, Ishimaru drew his katana as he heard footsteps approach. At that moment, the only thing that mattered to him was saving Mukuro and stopping Junko and the Survival Game for good.


	33. Night 55 Part 2: A Tactical Friendship's Final Showdown!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses: 
> 
> SHSL Guest: I put tabasco sauce on literally everything when I don't use sour cream or melted cheese. I've had a pita before, so it sounds delicious!  
> Oooh ho-ho-ho, if you think that chapter was rough, then you'll get a kick out of this one, my friend! This one's gonna RIP. YOUR. HEART OUT.
> 
> Gamekrazy306: Told ya, told ya! And don't worry, things are only gonna get as gruesome! Hope you're enjoying the final chapters!
> 
> And yes, the next chapter and the epilogue are the last two before the story comes to a complete close. Nonetheless, look forward to both, everyone! PS, what Mukuro says towards the end of this chapter is a callback to the aftermath of the Eighth fight.

Ishimaru picked up his footing again when Mukuro and Junko spotted him, the former charging at him with her own blade. Ishimaru easily deflected with his sword, the two weapons clashing and making hot sparks fly for a split second. Mukuro went in for a thrust to the gut, which Ishimaru dodged by moving further backwards.

“Mukuro, go for the arm!” Junko called out, reading a future entry from her Torture Diary.

“Roger!” Mukuro confirmed, running forward and slashing Ishimaru in the arm.

“GYAUGH!” Ishimaru cried, hissing back the immense pain in his arm from the bloody gash. _“Remember your training, Kiyotaka. Remember what Mukuro taught you!”_

“Junko, what’s your Torture Diary say to do next?” Mukuro asked, every slash parried by Ishimaru’s defensive blocks via katana.

“The next one says ‘18:03: Sixth gets a nasty deep stab to the shoulder. Havin’ a Soldier for a sister do it only makes it more effective! ;)’,” Junko answered in her cutesy tone with curled up pigtails. “Ooh! Looks like you’ll have an advantage in a few minutes, big sister~! Just use your Tactics Diary until then!”

Looking at the black phone Diary in her hand, Mukuro found a nifty prediction of “18:03: Kiyotaka goes in for a lower swing with his sword. Now’s your chance to lodge the knife directly into his upper shoulder.”. However, an entry above it contradictorily read “17:59: I charge at Kiyotaka with my knife for a stab to the thoracic area. He must deflect the blade using a common kendō technique of lowering his sword.”, which confused Mukuro all the more. Despite her shocked and bewildered mind, the SHSL Soldier chose to look forward to another helpful prophet that read “18:00: Kiyotaka tries pulling off a powerful side kick to my right. Grab the leg and toss him away to prevent success on his part.”.

First, Mukuro went in for her direct stab to Ishimaru’s chest. Recalling his training from the past, Ishimaru blocked Mukuro’s blade with his own and knocked the Fenrir knife from her tattooed hand. The knife went swirling and swerving across the floor, only to be picked up by Junko and tossed in Mukuro’s direction. In unison with Mukuro catching the knife, Ishimaru attempted to kick her in the side, failing when Mukuro grabbed his leg and tossed him far away towards another direction.

Ishimaru pushed himself back onto his butt, taking out his Friendship Diary to check on any surprises from Mukuro. He saw an entry “18:01: Mukuro runs towards me from the front with her knife still in her hand. There’s got to be a way to bring back her memories of me before I get killed!”. Right on schedule, Ishimaru saw Mukuro running at him with the knife while readying herself for a basic slash to his abdomen. Backing away a few inches in a quick manner, Ishimaru grabbed his katana handle with both hands and flawlessly deflected Mukuro’s failed slash, holding her blade with his as he looked her in the eyes.

“Mukuro, please stop this!” Ishimaru begged with fiery desperation. “You have to find a way to remember who I am! You must reclaim your memories from your sister!”

“Enough with this nonsense you’re spouting!” Mukuro retorted, trying to force her blade forward. “If I knew someone like you, I’d definitely remember! You’re just making up things to try and distract me!”

“No, I’m not! Mukuro, we’re a lot closer than you think! I won’t rest until you remember who I am and stop fighting!”

“I will never stop fighting! Not until I see Naegi-kun again! And Sixth, killing you is the only way to accomplish that!”

Both fighters broke their hold on one another, Ishimaru raising his sword high to hit Mukuro. As her and Junko’s respective Diaries predicted, Mukuro took the open chance to drive the knife directly into Ishimaru’s shoulder, causing him to drop his katana entirely. Mukuro ripped the knife from Ishimaru, going in for a slice to the neck. Ishimaru used his depleting strength to move sideways, evading an otherwise fatal body cut.

“How can you be this efficient at combat?” Mukuro wondered. “You’re just some run-of-the-mill Prefect!”

“Let’s just say I learned from the best,” Ishimaru answered weakly, picking up the katana with his unwounded arm and sheathing it as he tried regaining a stable stance. “Unfortunately, said ‘best’ doesn’t even remember training me so well.”

“I never-- Why are you making up memories of us? You're really that desperate to throw me off?”

“No. I'm just desperate to save you from Second’s control! Please, try to remember what we’ve been through, Muki!”

Mukuro gritted her teeth, doing nothing else but thinking and standing there with a bloodied knife. Her eyes shook while looking at the wounded and pained Ishimaru, something in her trembling with worry for an unknown reason. Before she could make any of her blocked thoughts process, Junko appeared behind her with the Torture Diary in hand, bringing the Soldier back to her other focus as she drew her knife again.

“Mukuro, darling!” Junko announcing in a queenly voice, reading from her cell phone. “My Diary says that in about eight-ish minutes, Sixth shall be blown away by several explosives! You know what to do, don’t you, my beloved sister?”

“Yes,” Mukuro said, sheathing her knife as Ishimaru started to run down the stairs while gripping his shoulder.

Although his vision started to get slightly blurred, Ishimaru forced himself to keep moving forward until he reached the first floor. He barged into the nearby infirmary, using his phone light to navigate through the dark room until he found the correct cabinet. Pulling out disinfectant and a roll of bandage gauze, Ishimaru got to work on his shoulder wound when he pulled the blood-stained gakuran sleeve down to get to treating his limb.

While wrapping and securing the bandage around his bloody shoulder, Ishimaru heard the Friendship Diary signal an update in his future. After tying the gauze tight and pulling his torn gakuran sleeve up, Ishimaru looked at his Future Diary for new predictions. Much to his shock, he found one he wasn't looking forward to.

“‘18:13: Ishimaru Kiyotaka is blown to smithereens by a stray grenade in the infirmary. DEAD END’?!” Ishimaru gasped, hearing a low noise behind him as a grenade fell from it without its spoon.

Thinking fast, Ishimaru bolted from the infirmary with his Diary in hand, blown forward by the powerful explosion. When his Diary loudly changed again from the evaded DEAD END flag, he read more predictions in his head while running back upstairs. The topmost one said “18:19: Mukuro tosses a grenade into a dark portal made by Second, the explosion going off near the pool entrance. If this keeps up, I must keep moving for my life and hers!” with the entry “18:23: Mukuro tosses a grenade into the portal and sends it to the physics lab door. You're not gonna get me this easily, my dear!” following it right after.

Ishimaru looked to the side, seeing a grenade come out of a dark cloud and go off while he kept running from the burning blast. He continued to sprint for his life through the school, eventually reaching Floor 3 and just barely evading that explosion. Since he was close in perimeter that time, Ishimaru tripped and tumbled forwards. Getting up in less than a second, Ishimaru looked at the next array of predictions, which told him where Mukuro would send her grenades next. Underneath them all, one entry said “18:37: Mukuro runs out of grenades to throw from the fifth floor’s staircase, but also looks extremely unnerved about something. Is it possible things are finally progressing for her lost memories?”.

 _“If I can survive these next traps, I’ll be able to reach her!”_ Ishimaru thought, bolting forth and reaching the fourth floor, where he jumped right past the explosion just after the stairs. _“Even if I’m the one who dies, Mukuro's not going to be an amnesiac Goddess! If I can just get her to remember me and help stop Second, I’ll be in the clear!”_

* * *

From the fifth floor’s set of stairs, Junko was looking visibly frustrated from her lack of harmful predictions. Only one or two described Ishimaru's pain, while others said something such as “18:35: There is so much turmoil going on in me from how little Sixth is getting hurt. Ah, t’is a bittersweet despair I’m feeling! <:3”. She looked at Mukuro, who ceased throwing her grenades in favor of looking at the Tactics Diary with confusion and shock. All of her new prediction entries included words like “18:28: Kiyotaka runs near an unstable grenade not too far from the music room on Floor 4. If he keeps running or jumps away from it, he’ll be just fine.” and “18:32: Kiyotaka faces yet another explosion near Class 4-D. A swift tumble roll will help him survive the explosion, if only with a few scratches.”. Mukuro gripped her aching head, shutting her eyes tight as thoughts began spinning out of control within her again.

“What's happening?!” Mukuro cried out, wanting a logical answer. “Junko, why does my Diary want to protect Sixth too?! Why do I… feel as though I should be doing the same?”

“Shut up and throw! Or do you not want things to go back to normal for us?” Junko questioned, her question coming out when she switched to a more scholarly disposition, ponytail, glasses and all.

“I do, but…” Mukuro saw the skeptical look in Junko's eyes, saying nothing more and pulling out more grenade pins as she tossed them into different portals. _“Nothing makes sense anymore. Just what's going on…?”_

Following the ninth or so grenade, Mukuro had run out of explosives. She looked at her Diary again, nothing different in the slightest. Just the sight of every contradictory entry threw Mukuro for a loop, her head spinning while her heart ached from the thought of Ishimaru being injured for reasons alien to her. As she took a few moments to try and clear her head, the Tactics Diary updated with newer entries. One read “18:38: Kiyotaka ambushes me using the sharp edge of his katana. Block using the Fenrir knife to avoid a nasty gash.”, where Ishimaru came running up the stairs with a yell and armed with his sword. Unveiling her jagged Fenrir knife, Mukuro blocked his attack like her phone told her to, thrusting the metal out at Ishimaru as more sparks flew from their weapons. Mukuro pushed forward, only for Ishimaru to turn her around and shove her with the blade, sending them both hurdling downwards without any contact with the stairs. Both fell to the floor, fending off each other using impressive skills and weaponry while getting onto their feet again. Mukuro went in for a sweep kick, but ultimately failed when Ishimaru jumped away and sent her back to the ground with his own sweep kick. All Mukuro could do at that moment was sit flat on her butt, Ishimaru pointing the tip of his sword at only her nose without actually touching it.

“Mukuro, enough of this,” Ishimaru said, sadness also obvious in his eyes. “I refuse to kill the one person I hold close to me in this Game. I'm begging you, try to see reason so I don't go back on that word!”

Mukuro took out her Tactics Diary, finding an Ishimaru-centric prediction about his successful sweep kick. She looked up at him again after closing and hiding the phone, tears starting to well up in her gray-blue eyes from the strange feelings of conflict.

“Damn it…” Mukuro cursed with a sob, tears running down her face as her eyes furrowed in outrage while leaping up onto her feet and balling her fists. “Damn it, who are you?! Why does my Diary know who you are, but I don't?! What is it you’ve done to me?!”

“Oh, jeez,” Junko scoffed, appearing right next to the other two Diary Holders. “This ain't getting anywhere! I thought fixing you up would prevent that, but even that’s not safe from you messing it up, Mukuro!” Junko grabbed Ishimaru, zipping up the stairs with him in a black shroud. “If you want someone dead, you gotta do it yourself!”

“Wait!” Mukuro interjected, reaching a hand out before pulling it back and looking at it like a foreign object. “There's something about him that's odd… but what is it?”

In a few mere seconds, Junko returned to the rooftop with Ishimaru, throwing him onto the ground with a _THUD_. She cackled triumphantly, looking at him push himself off the ground and protecting his Future Diary.

“Upupu, your worthless Friendship Diary can't help you now!” Junko cackled, floating closer to Ishimaru and conjuring another machete. “I'm gonna cut you ta bits and make the world more suited to my liking!”

“I’d like to see you try, Second!” Ishimaru boasted, putting the Friendship Diary in his pocket for safekeeping and taking the katana from its scabbard. He clutched the sword handle with both hands, glaring fiercely at the confident and armed Second Diary Holder. “Do your worst, Junko Enoshima!”

Junko charged forward, about to swing her machete sideways when she got close enough to Ishimaru. The Hall Monitor blocked it with a swing of his katana, striking the other metal again to send Junko away in the air. Junko raised her weapon upwards, flying down at wind speed as she gripped the handle tight while pointing her long blade at Ishimaru. Ishimaru moved, but still managed to get cut down the left arm by the blade and cry out from pain as a result of it.

“Upupu, do you really think you can beat a Goddess?” Junko taunted, seeing Ishimaru draw his weapon again.

“I don’t care if I can’t,” Ishimaru snarled, thick brows pointing downwards. “What I do care about is Mukuro! You won’t keep her as your divine prisoner for any time!”

Ishimaru lunged forward with the katana in an attempted thrust, only for Junko to fly backwards while looking at her dark pink Torture Diary’s screen while the black-and-white bear head charm dangled wildly at the bottom of the phone. Junko noticed three subsequent predictions, her first reading “18:42: Sixth gets a nasty machete slash to the forehead. Guess what brilliant Goddess of a mastermind did that~? ;)” while the second said “18:45: Sixth is hit by a mystic blast so extreme he goes tumbling onto the next roof. My my, I really don’t know my own strength, do I? ^u^”. After those was the entry of “18:48: Back and forth from the lower roof to the main one, Sixth is getting tossed around like a hacky sack. Ah, the sounds of his pained grunts are like music to my ears! XD”.

Junko charged in with her free hand, swinging the machete across Ishimaru’s forehead. Ishimaru gripped his deep cut for a moment, taking his blood-covered hand off the area while blood seeped down his face and its sides. He kept standing strong, holding the katana handle between palms and running at Junko, swinging and slashing to try and get a hit on her. But no matter how efficient his attacks were, Junko kept dodging at every turn. Junko went in for another thrust of the machete at Ishimaru, who quickly jumped back as if the attack were no big deal. He repeatedly swung his katana at her, deflecting any and all attempts on his life made.

“Give it a rest, Second!” Ishimaru demanded, still defending for his life.

“You first, Sixth!” Junko growled, swinging as fast and hard as she could, going so far as to swing downwards until that was blocked too. “Gah, just die already! I'm stronger than you’ll ever be anyways!”

“True as that may be, I’m determined to stop you! A Hall Monitor worth his salt never gives up on what he wants to protect!”

In a fit of anger, Junko made her machete disappear and conjured a medium-sized black ball covered in blue eyes identical to her own. Ishimaru stood still for a second, moving just too late as the orb exploded. There he went flying off the roof onto the one below him without his katana, nearly bouncing between air and the concrete. He searched around on his hands, finding no sign of his trusty sword anywhere as Junko floated before him with folded arms.

“What’d I tell ya?” Junko laughed, satisfied as her tattered black cape blew back in the night wind. “I'm unstoppable, Sixth. If ya just give up now, I’ll make your death just a little _less_ painful.”

“N-No… I will never give up! Not on her!” Ishimaru declared with raspy breaths, standing shakily in front of Junko.

“Welp, worth a shot,” Junko shrugged, cracking her knuckles and glaring with a malicious grin. “More fun for me anyways. I get to watch you suffer while you _DIE_!”

When Junko took the first punch at Ishimaru, her strength send him flying upwards until she slammed the male onto the roof using her hands that were folded into a “super fist”. Ishimaru was sent crashing into the ground, his attempt to grab his katana failing when Junko kicked him upwards with a heeled boot and back down onto the lower roof. Unbeknownst to both, the red memory shard hidden on Junko's body started resonating, flying off the Second Diary Holder and onto the main roof top when she attacked Ishimaru again.

* * *

On the dormant fifth floor, Mukuro was shakily making her way towards the roof, not taking eyes off her Tactics Diary for a second. Sprawled all over the screen were entries about Ishimaru and what he was to do to protect himself from harm. Strangely enough to Mukuro, every entry used her alleged adversary's first name, which exacerbated things for her. When she finally got outside on the roof, Mukuro stepped upon a mysterious glowing red shard with something dark frenzying in the center.

“What could this be?” Mukuro wondered, picking up the artifact.

Suddenly, in came Junko floating in the air. She had a tight grip on the injured Ishimaru, spinning him around and tossing him torso-first into the roof’s concrete. Mukuro watched in shock as Ishimaru struggled to push himself up, the shard in her hand glowing bright for a split second until it dimmed when the dark center poured through Mukuro's skin. Mukuro's dimmed blue eyes widened, her brain flashing visions on visions of everything she’d been through with Ishimaru. Once her eyes returned to normal, Mukuro gripped her head from the rush of taking back all the forgotten memories, dropping the now obsolete shard and looking onwards at the battle scene. Standing in front of a recovering Ishimaru was Junko, who summoned her machete again and pointed it at the Sixth Diary Holder.

“Time to die, ya bastard!” Junko exclaimed with a maddened expression.

“KIYOTAKA!” Mukuro yelled, running forward as Junko started lunging at Ishimaru.

Ishimaru braced himself, awaiting the sheer pain of the machete through his body. He closed his eyes quickly, opening them to a surprising sight when the stabbing pain never arrived. In front of him was Mukuro, who was holding the machete blade tight in her grasp, her eyes cold and determined despite blood dripping from the large cut in her hand. Junko tried pushing her machete through Mukuro's hand, but the Soldier’s grip proved much stronger when it wouldn't budge.

“Mukuro!” Ishimaru gasped in surprise, “Do you… do you finally remember everything?”

“Yes, it’s all clear to me now,” Mukuro answered, still holding the machete away from her and Ishimaru before glaring at Junko. “Looks like your little memory trick didn’t last too long.”

“B-But, that’s just not fair, damn it!” Junko cursed, ripping her machete away from her sister’s hand and unsuccessfully searching herself for the memory shard. “Gah, stupid thing must’ve fallen off of me! Knew I should have kept a better eye on it!” Junko looked back at her sister, giving her a fierce look as she readied her machete again. “Whatever. I guess I’ll just have to get rid of your stupid boy-toy the harder way!”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Mukuro picked up Ishimaru’s discarded katana and handed it to him, unsheathing her knife while holding her Tactics Diary tight. “As long as I’m still alive, Junko, you won’t touch my Kiyotaka!”

“That can be arranged, then!” Junko cackled, flying upwards with the machete raised over her head while two Future Diary static noises sounded off.

“Taka, try to fend off my sister’s attack!” Mukuro instructed, reading from her Diary.

“Okay! But, you also have to move to your right so she doesn’t get you either!”

As Junko flew downwards, Mukuro ran out of the way while Ishimaru stood his ground and shielded himself from the machete’s strike. He swung the katana to the side, sending Junko away through the air. Junko came flying down to attack Ishimaru again, only to be thwarted by a prepared Mukuro, who gave her younger twin a rough kick in her side. The kick gave Ishimaru the opportunity to finally slash Junko on the opposite side where Mukuro kicked her, the pigtailed female giving out a cry of pain as she clutched her side.

“Exactly what I was afraid of!” Junko proclaimed, looking at the Torture Diary’s now-true prediction stating Ishimaru and Mukuro’s team attack on her at that exact moment. “C’mon, phone, gimme something good!”

Junko saw some handy predictions such as “18:53: One strike to Sixth’s back with the blunt side of a machete gives him plenty of pain. Who else but the machete master herself, me? ;)” and “18:58: Kicking Sixth in his stomach REALLY inflicts some pain in ‘im! Heeled boots are really the way to go, Junko! :D”. Way at the bottom of her phone screen was a prediction that truly satisfied Junko all over.

Ishimaru and Mukuro's Diaries updated again, the former horrified at the final prediction. Without letting Mukuro hear him and worry, Ishimaru read his new entry to himself, eyes trailing carefully along the words “19:03: Ishimaru Kiyotaka is mortally stabbed in the chest by Enoshima Junko. DEAD END”. He bit his lip, taking a breath inwards and focusing on the battle at hand with Mukuro.

The Hall Monitor charged at Junko, katana ready in both hands. However, just as the Torture Diary predicted, the pigtail-bearing girl dodged by moving to her side and swinging her machete at Ishimaru in the back by the side that wasn’t sharp. Ishimaru was knocked down by Junko’s force, but got up just as quickly to fight again.

“Kiyotaka! Move downwards before Junko cuts your head off!” Mukuro instructed, paraphrasing an entry from her Diary.

“No problem!” Ishimaru confirmed, ducking downwards as Junko swung her machete across and missing his head by a few good inches. “Quick! Second’s going to come in on your left!” he declared, looking at his Friendship Diary.

Mukuro nimbly dodged her sister’s attack in a heartbeat, bringing the Fenrir knife across and blocking Junko's machete. When Mukuro found an open spot, she jammed her knee into Junko's abdomen, sending the younger twin flying across. Although in pain, Junko checked her Torture Diary, where she of course found the entry “18:54: I get knee’d in my stomach and sent flying. Maybe Mukuro-chan isn't as useless as I thought? 0_0;”. Closing her phone shut and making it disappear out of nowhere, Junko readied her machete and charged at her sister. Unfortunately, Ishimaru caught a certain prediction on time and swung the sharp side of his katana out when he rushed in front of Mukuro, leaving a nasty gash in Junko's cheek.

“GAAUGH!” was all Junko could shout as she clutched her bleeding cheek. “You are _SOOO_ gonna pay for that, bastard!”

Junko came flying down with a loud yell of fury released into the night, stomping both feet on the rooftop as she thrust her machete out at Ishimaru repeatedly. Each time through, the Hall Monitor lunged backwards in different directions revealed by Mukuro and her prophets.

Ishimaru ducked his feet downwards, sweep kicking Junko onto her red skirt bottom and tattered cape with only her hands supporting her upon the chilled stone. In a halfhearted attempt, Junko gave her machete a swing with one hand, which was easily blocked by Ishimaru even without Mukuro's aid. Junko stood up on her feet, holding her machete tight while Ishimaru did the same for his katana.

“Brace yourself, Taka!” Mukuro warned, looking at her Tactics Diary.

“This ends now, Second,” Ishimaru growled, panting from all the fighting. “You won't have your twisted way!”

“Oh, won't I?” Junko teased snidely. “That's for the last person standing to decide!”

Junko took the first swing at Ishimaru, tearing through the center of his gakuran and some skin as he moved too late despite Mukuro's orders. Embracing the pain quickly, Ishimaru ran forth and went for a blade thrust of his own. This one managed to sever a cut into Junko's side skin and black top under the cape, the female temporary God letting blood seep out while she kept fighting.

Both Ishimaru and Junko fought strong, deflecting their opposing blades with the occasional slash. Ishimaru parried another unsuccessful slice from Junko, who impulsively gave her opponent a kick to his muscular stomach using her heeled boot. Ishimaru coughed out painfully, gripping his stomach with both hands and gathering enough luck to stop Junko from taking him out by blocking yet another machete attack via Mukuro's prediction.

“Oh, come on!” Junko groused, taking another sharp swing at Ishimaru that went deflected. “Quit pretending you're fighting for a worthy cause! It's just my homely sister; why's she so important?”

“It's a pity you can't even appreciate your own kin…” Ishimaru breathed, slashing Junko's machete away from him and keeping a hold on it. “I, on the other hand, would never be able to live with myself if I let down another loved one!”

“Hey, then I guess after I take you out, you won't have any reason to _live_ with yourself period!”

Junko raised her machete again, this time stopped from wounding Ishimaru by Mukuro. The Second Diary Holder’s twin kicked her sister’s machete clean from her hand with a side kick, Junko's weapon swerving away to the roof’s edge until it fell to the ground below. Angry, Junko repeated what Mukuro did and kicked her upwards, sending the Fenrir knife into the air until Junko snatched it and held it tight.

“I have always wanted to take this bad boy from you!” Junko gloated, moving in to try and wound Mukuro.

Mukuro used her instincts to duck down when Junko swung right with the stolen knife. At the same time, Mukuro's Tactics Diary and Ishimaru's Friendship Diary sounded off a static each at the same second, changing its future and prompting Mukuro to read hers. Although the new entry shocked her greatly, Mukuro put it aside when she saw Junko rush over to Ishimaru with the jagged knife. Putting all other desires aside, Mukuro ran over to the duel scene.

“This is finally the end of you, Sixth!” Junko cackled, pointing the knife at Ishimaru and running forward. “Prepare to _DIE_!”

“Ggh-- ahh!” Ishimaru sputtered, preparing to draw his katana with closed eyes until the movements stopped.

Ishimaru heard a stray _SHK_ sound and a pained grunt trying to be forced back. He felt a pair of arms wrap around his torso at the same time, looking to see what had happened. When he did, Ishimaru was more than horrified to see Mukuro, the freckled girl looking into his eyes with a shaky pair while her body trembled. To make matters worse, Mukuro's own knife was lodged through her dorsal cavity as her blood seeped all the way down her red-stained blouse past the rim of her skirt.

“MUKURO! NOOO!” Ishimaru practically screamed as Junko looked on shocked while ripping the knife from her sister’s body, Mukuro herself collapsing onto her bleeding back and dropping her open Tactics Diary. “Mukuro, wh-what have you-- how could you--?!”

“What? You're asking why I took the blow instead…?” Mukuro questioned weakly, putting a hand to her deep wound and looking at Ishimaru with dying eyes as blood oozed from her mouth. “Well… I only did what I felt was necessary to avoid another cruel outcome.”

“You didn't avoid one! You only brought a much worse one on!” Ishimaru’s eyes quickly built up thick tears in unison with saliva and mucus dripping from his nose and mouth, kneeling down and grabbing Mukuro by the arms gently while not taking his tearful expression off of her. “Oh God, Muki… I just don’t understand why you would willingly discard your life like that! We were… we were supposed to figure something out so we could be happy!”

Mukuro’s lips curved up into a smile despite the blood coming from it, breathing weakly as she could feel the life energy ooze out of her. “I guess you could say… my one reason for doing so was to protect someone that deserves more than anything to be alive.”

“I-I-- no! Mukuro, if anyone deserved to live, it’s you! What am I going to do without you?! Just _what_?! I don’t even want to be God anymore if it means losing you forever!” Ishimaru’s voice turned into chest-aching sobs, more tears and mucus dripping from his face despite wiping it away with his worn out gakuran sleeve. “First my father, then my friends, and now you…! Especially since I’ve never felt the way I do towards you about anyone before!”

Mukuro looked up at Ishimaru with surprise in her eyes, blinking slowly as a ruddy color came to her cheeks while tears threatened to fall down her face. Ishimaru too was both tearful and roseate, gathering his courage past grief as he summoned words when Mukuro could barely find her own. He found himself pulling Mukuro slightly upwards while still sitting slanted with languishing eyes.

“Kiyotaka, do you…?” Mukuro wondered as Ishimaru looked her in the eyes with grieving affection.

“Mukuro, I…” Ishimaru started before getting the rest out, “...I love you, Mukuro! Regardless of everything that's happened between us, you always stayed by me and continued to care. But now-- now I'm going to lose you; the only remaining person who’s been so loyal to me and helped me through it all!”

“Kiyotaka… I love you as well,” Mukuro confessed wearily, smiling as she reached a shaky arm up and cupped Ishimaru's now-surprised face with a gentle palm. The tears in her eyes finally made their way down the dying Soldier’s face. “How could… how could I not care for someone who made me unafraid to actually feel human? If any… if anything, being with you through this whole Survival Game made it all a little less painful…”

“Muki… I don't want to lose you! I'm just not ready to say goodbye forever! What good is winning the Game if I lose what actually mattered to me?!”

“Taka… when you're officially God… you can't let this happen again,” Mukuro breathed, inching closer to Ishimaru's face with her hand still resting on his cheek. “You may not be able to resurrect the dead, but… surely you can think of an alternative to fixing everything. And not just for my sake or yours… but for everyone who's had to suffer because of this stupid Game…”

“But I don't know what that alternative is!” Ishimaru objected, more tears and fluids gushing from his face as Mukuro wiped some of them away. “I'm gonna lose you and everything! How could I fix that even with Godhood?!”

“I believe you can find a way…” Mukuro assured as Ishimaru leaned close to her lips. “Now, before we never see each other again, I… just…”

Without any more words, Ishimaru and Mukuro pressed their lips deep into each other's, refusing to pull apart. Tears leaked from both their faces as they held onto each other's arms, Mukuro's gentle grip loosening until she fell back limp from Ishimaru and his lips. A soft smile permanently stuck to her own lips, Ishimaru staring at her body with horror, the tears and facial mucus mercilessly falling down as he tried to carefully shake her awake.

“M-Mukuro?” the tearing Ishimaru gasped as he felt her neck, only to find no pulse or heartbeat. “Mukuro! No no no, please! Don't leave me like this! Come back, I’m begging you!”

Bawling his very heart out, Ishimaru held Mukuro's body close to his, refusing to let go as he rocked her slowly back and forth. He let the tears and mucus fall with drips of saliva, Mukuro's intact Tactics Diary displaying its final entry: “19:03: Ikusaba Mukuro receives a mortal stab wound to the lower back from Enoshima Junko. DEAD END” while his discarded open Friendship Diary said “19:03: Mukuro kisses me for the first time and bleeds to death after she takes a stab meant for me. I know what will come next for me, but what good is it anymore…?!”.

Junko stared on at the scene, gasping when her torn black cape and queen’s crown disappeared together in crackling wisps. Add insult to injury, she felt as though all of her amplified energy within her body drained from her when dark shrouds quite literally poured from her form in a mist of smoke until it manifested back into a glowing red shard. Junko held the shard in her palm, looking at it with disbelief and dejection as she knew what would follow. Raising the shard high, it glowed brighter while floating ever so slightly above Junko’s palm.

“Reluctant as I am,” Junko sighed before shouting triumphantly, “I hereby declare Sixth, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, as the winner of the Survival Game!”

Ishimaru’s attention was ripped from Mukuro’s corpse with a gasp when a scarlet aura surrounded his entire body in swirls, making him let go of his deceased beloved. The red energy turned black, Ishimaru looking all around himself as his traditional boots and tattered uniform disappeared, replaced by a long-sleeved black hooded cloak that fell a little past his knees with a ripped bottom. He looked at himself in horror, made much worse by a dark portal opening above his head before Junko grabbed him.

“Let me go!” Ishimaru demanded tearfully when he felt one of Junko’s arms wrap around his waist, “I’m not leaving Mukuro behind! I want to stay with her!”

“Tough luck, Ishi!” Junko objected, flying upwards into the dark portal with the mournful and heartbroken Ishimaru. “You’re gonna be a God and like it!”

“I said let go of me!” Ishimaru pleaded through loud sobs as he looked down at the darkness closing in on Mukuro’s smiling and bloodied corpse the higher he and Junko rose until nothing but darkness could be seen. “I don’t want to be without her! Mukuro! **_MUKUROOOOO_**!”


	34. Night ???: A New Promise In A Second World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment responses:
> 
> SHSL Guest: You were really expecting me to make Mukuro a yandere? Nah, regardless of who you ship her with, that's way too out of character for her (unless it's a Mastermind AU; in that case, nevermind). I planned on retaining Mukuro's kuudere-ness from the get-go as a /counterpart/ to Yuno being a yandere herself. It's good to hear I've surprised you at every turn, friend!
> 
> Gamekrazy306: Here, lemme get that for you. *picks up heart and puts it back* It might fall out again in this chapter, but eh. This is the last chapter besides the epilogue.
> 
> Abysslullaby: It's not like Junko had a choice. She didn't win either Survival Game, so she only called it quits because she wasn't *allowed* to keep Izuru's powers for good. Whoever won she would be forced to pass it on since they won and she didn't.
> 
> (I listened to Caleb Hyles' cover of Asriel's theme writing/publishing this. Makes it even sadder...)  
> Guys! Next chapter's the epilogue! I'm sure a LOT of you will be pleased with it. Get ready for it! ♥

Darkness.

If there was a single word that could describe the current atmosphere within the Cathedral Of Causality, it was just that. Not only was the gargantuan throne room borderline-pitch black from the shadows consuming what was once lit in a violet lighting, but the only two inside of the room felt as glum as the space around them.

Sitting in his new throne was Ishimaru, who was willingly normal sized and viewing a giant screen projecting the moral realm as the torn hooded black cloak continued to cover his otherwise mostly exposed body. A stern look was painted on his face, thick black eyebrows furrowed downwards and giving him the appearance of anger. But on the inside, anger resided with regret, depression, and above all, sadness.

“Heeey, Ishi…” Junko whined near the teenaged God, kneeling inside a giant cage on a stand with her hands and ankles chained tight to her prison. “When are you gonna let me outta this cage?”

“You’ll live,” Ishimaru snarled, glaring at Junko with the utmost hatred. “I took away your ability to die, anyways.”

“Yeah, but that aside, I’m powerless! Gah, I’m sooo bored in this thing! At least Izu-chan gave me something to work with, even if you’re ten times more emotional!”

“Hmm, perhaps you should have thought of that before you murdered your sister!” Ishimaru snapped at Junko, fury burning in his crimson eyes before he turned away from her. “This is your eternal punishment for taking away my last shred of happiness.”

Junko continued to moan and groan, fussing around in her metallic prison while Ishimaru looked on at his giant viewing screen. Each and every moment viewed of the world he’d left behind went normal, all the damages fixed after the previous battle and almost everyone going about their lives. He switched the screen to his former homeroom, where his and Mukuro’s desks had yet some more vased white lilies on them to signify their apparent deaths (well, _Ishimaru’s_ anyways; local officials actually found Mukuro’s body lying dead on the roof).

The very recollection of everything that had gone on in his old universe made Ishimaru’s stomach twist into uncomfortable knots. To make matters worse for his negative feelings, the large screen changed to his old home, where his clinically depressed mother Chiyo stood in the living room looking at an old portrait with ring target-like crimson eyes now dulled with gloom. Ishimaru felt more than terrible at leaving his widowed (and due to the Survival Game’s victor, _bereaved_ was thrown into the mix) mother behind, shutting off the screen as he fought back tears of regret.

“I can see why Kamukura-kun wanted to abdicate his Godhood so badly,” Ishimaru sighed, turning off the large screen and making it vanish. “Being a deity is meaningless if you lose everyone dear to you.”

“What? Does this mean you wanna repeat history and start a new Survival Game or something?” Junko inquired, only to get a nasty glare from Ishimaru.

“Such a ridiculous question should have never crossed your mind. What on Earth makes you think I’d ever subject anyone else to that horrible fate? Besides, the winner wouldn’t even get a worthy prize.”

Turning away from Junko, Ishimaru raised his hand halfway as a small puff of black smoke appeared. Less than two seconds later, the smoke turned into a familiar artifact: a blood-stained knife with a rugged sharp side that once belonged to Mukuro. Mindful of the blade, Ishimaru held the knife at a distance that was close enough to almost embrace, but far enough to prevent injury. Ishimaru put Mukuro’s knife down next to him on the over-sized throne, conjuring this time an 8.5 x 11 inch portrait of him and Mukuro, grinning at a camera with the latter giving a peace sign while Ishimaru had an arm around her waist. Tears welling up in his quivering red eyes, the former Hall Monitor’s lips trembled as the salted liquid drops poured from his ducts, Ishimaru letting out aching sobs when he hugged the portrait with closed eyes.

“I miss you so much, Mukuro!” Ishimaru bawled, letting tears fall into his black cloak whilst cradling the portrait photo in his grasp. “What kind of God am I if I can’t even revive you?!”

“Aaand there’s the whole sobbing hour again,” Junko complained, rolling her eyes as she rattled her hand chains. “Holy fuck, you’ve been doing this since you got the throne. As much as I love seeing people be miserable, your misery’s bound to get stale after a while. Why can’t you just be thankful for what you earned instead of using it to cry and yell at me?”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand,” Ishimaru sniffled, more tears streaming down his face with drips of mucus and saliva. “You’re so incapable of real love that you think anything that isn’t pain is stupid. But really, isn’t your lack of empathy the reason you’re in this cage?”

“No, I’m stuck in this stupid bird cage because _you_ don’t know how to get over things!” Junko’s mouth twisted into a grin of satisfaction when she looked at Ishimaru again, watching him hold the portrait close with crying eyes. “Though I gotta admit, it _is_ pretty fun to watch you suffer for all eternity! The only thing that would make it better is if I had a little more elbow room.”

“Well, wish all you want, Enoshima-kun. You’re never gonna get it. Ever. Not as long as I have to suffer by living without Mukuro or any of my loved ones for all time.”

“Jeez, gotta make things overly complicated, do ya? C’mon, have a heart and let me go!” Junko blinked with false innocence at Ishimaru, who sneered and turned away from Junko with disgust. Junko huffed, sitting down in her cage with defeat. “Fine, if you want a better outcome sooo badly…”

“Save it, Second. I'm stuck here forever. No family, no friends… no Mukuro. Just the likes of you bothering me and godly powers I have no reason to use anymore.”

“Well, maybe if you’d hear me out for like two seconds, then both of our problems would finally be over.”

“And what could you possibly know to fix this horrible future?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, _who_ was stuck with Kamukura during the second Survival Game? That’s right, me! In other words, I know a whole lot more than you do about what a God can and can’t do!”

Ishimaru was about to say something to object and scold Junko, but a realization came to him like a falling asteroid would Earth. Now that he thought about it, Junko's experience with Kamukura would have surely taught her something useful, wondering what she knew. Desperate to have his old life back, Ishimaru gave into Junko's offer, the caged girl flashing a semi-grin as a sign of satisfaction.

“Okay, I came from the past with Mukuro after Izu-chan took us out before the Survival Game ended,” Junko explained. “You know how he did that, right?”

“No. How could Kamukura-kun have taken you and Mukuro from the past if he was stuck in a timeline after he won your Survival Game?” Ishimaru wondered.

“Upupu, you’re really that stupid? Some genius you are!” The offended look on Ishimaru’s face made Junko laugh harder on the inside, cutting him off before he had time to protest about the word “genius”. “Anyways, Gods can’t wake the dead, buuut! What they can do is go back far enough in time to stop them from dying in the first place!”

This struck some sudden inspiration within Ishimaru, now envisioning a better world for him to live in with his loved ones, especially Mukuro. But, what stopped him was the means on how to go through with fixing everything for the better. He thought and thought, but no proper concept came to his head on how to possibly go back in time. Even after he’s been a God for an innumerable amount of time, Ishimaru couldn’t wrap his head around time travel.

“I guess going back in time and stopping everything would be possible for me,” Ishimaru pondered, “but how do I do it? Would I make some sort of time machine?”

“Upupupu, you really don’t know how to go back in time?” Junko laughed. “Wow, you’re some God, Ishi!”

“Then how do I do it? Enoshima-kun, I can’t stay like this forever!”

“Right, like I’d just tell you that easily! I mean, I _could,_ but watching you suffer as you try and figure it out is a lot more fun to do!”

“Enoshima-kun!” Ishimaru growled, shooting a dagger-filled glare at her. “If you don’t tell me, you’ll be stuck in that cage forever!”

“Bah, that’s no skin off my nose anymore,” Junko giggled teasingly. “Now that I think about it, bein’ in this cage is boring enough to bring me plenty of despair! Plus, how much fun would I be missing out on if I just told you the answer?”

“Then if you’re starting to love being in that cage so much, why don’t I make things a little less roomy?”

With a nasty glare of anger at Junko, Ishimaru raised his hand halfway at the cage. The metallic bars on the stand started to shrink around the chained up Junko, who looked around at her shrinking prison with surprising delight. When the cage got small enough to start constricting Junko and suffocating her, she choked out noises that signified not only a need for more air, but also a strange delight that neared arousal.

“Upupu~ Can’t ya do it a little tighter?” Junko coughed as her cage stopped at a point too small for her to move in. “It hurts like Hell, and I love it!”

“Does anything actually bother you for more than a minute?” Ishimaru wondered, making the cage grow back to normal. “Well, if I can’t squeeze the answer out of you, then maybe…”

Closing his eyes, Ishimaru crossed his wrists until his open hands were opposite each other. As Junko cackled, she stopped; her stare becoming dulled and blank when a red-pink aura swirled around her skull. The color danced, Ishimaru molding its way back into Junko’s head as she regained consciousness despite the lightheaded feeling that came to her.

“Urgh… the hell did you just do?!” Junko demanded to know, gripping her spinning head as her cold wrist brace made contact with her soft facial skin. “...Actually, what the hell was I gonna do?”

“If I’m correct, you were just about to tell me how to time travel as a God,” Ishimaru lied, smiling and satisfied.

“Oh yeah, I was, wasn’t I? Alright, Ishi, here’s what you gotta do.”

For a few minutes, Junko went into great detail about how Gods could go back and forward in time without any limitations to how far they can travel. Ishimaru took mental note, memorizing each and every method on the once impossible. He also heard Junko mention how going back far enough and changing the future greatly would create an entirely new world beside the old one, finding his new info to be useful and interesting. When Junko finished, Ishimaru raised a hand midway as he tampered with the ex-Second Diary Holder’s head again, the girl becoming shocked immediately afterwards once she realized what Ishimaru made her say.

“No fair! You screwed with my memories!” Junko yowled, banging her shackles against the cage in a tantrum. “Do over! Major do over!”

“A do over won’t be necessary,” Ishimaru chuckled, leaving his throne and floating above it while looking at the imprisoned Junko one last time. “Before I go, I must thank you for telling me what I need to know.”

“I only told you because you made me! Sheesh, at least Izu-chan had manners!” Junko stopped her tirade, looking at Ishimaru and stopping him before he could leave. “Wait! Think about it: If you somehow fix everything when you go back, you’re giving up being a _God_! Why the hell would you just throw all of that out to be some weak little human boy again?”

“It does sound far-fetched if you put it that way, doesn’t it?” Ishimaru laughed, looking down with lidded eyes and a somber smile. “But, my answer is simple, Enoshima-kun. It’s much better to be some ordinary mortal than to live a depressing eternity without someone like Mukuro. After all: What good is a life of lonely Godhood if somebody you hold very dear isn’t there to spend it with you?”

His torn black God’s cloak blowing backwards, Ishimaru ascended upwards in a speed faster than the wind itself. He left the caged and outraged Junko behind, soon finding himself in total darkness during his swift flight through time and space. Ishimaru flew far enough to reach a spacious rift of the stars, making himself keep flying further and further towards a certain point in time where he once lived.

 _“Mukuro, wait for me,”_ Ishimaru thought, his mind on the late SHSL Soldier. _“When this is all over, I’ll have finally carried out your final wish.”_

Ishimaru kept going through the unknown dimension until he found a point good enough to stop at. He turned, going in a new direction that helped him spot the familiar Osaka, Japan. Ishimaru kept soaring across the sky, appearing to the oblivious folk below as a bright star from space, until he found the roof of his own house. Flying downwards, Ishimaru looked through a specific window, his heart convulsing with bittersweet melancholy when he saw his mother and father sleeping soundly in their bed together. With his feet several inches from the ground, Ishimaru let the tattered ends of his black cloak blow back in the night breeze, sighing when he kept looking in at the sleeping Takaaki and Chiyo Ishimaru.

“It's so welcoming to see Mother and Father alive at the same time,” Ishimaru said before looking away with a low mood. “But… these aren't _my_ parents. They're my Second World self’s parents. Come on, Kiyotaka, don't get distracted! You have a promise to uphold!”

Leaping upwards, Ishimaru returned to the air in a swift turbulence. His partially torn black God’s cloak kept flapping against the muscular bare skin it was covering while flying through the chilled night air, Ishimaru going a far distance until he spotted the rooftop he so desperately sought after: Hope's Peak Academy.

He lowered himself closer to the ground up to the first floor, passing by each window within the Dormitory Wing until he came across the one belonging to the Second World’s Mukuro. Inside, the girl had just gotten dressed for bed in her black tank top and camouflage pajama pants, crawling into the sheets in the dark and pulling them over her body as she closed her eyes for the night. Ishimaru watched her with a morose longing, heartstrings being tugged at just by watching her; alive and well unlike her two First World counterparts. He knew he had to speak to Mukuro again, the only problem being how to go about it. Ishimaru pinched his cheek and creased his eyes downward, thinking and thinking about how to find an answer.

“Maybe…” Ishimaru pondered before realizing a solution, “I could reach Mukuro in her dreams! Kamukura-kun did the same for me, so--” He stopped, his mind freezing up when he came to another realization. “But… how am I going to do that? After all this time of being God, I still don’t know how to bring people to my realm.”

Ishimaru stood staring at Mukuro, finally looking away and pulling his hood over his face to conceal his identity. In a stream of black smoke, Ishimaru went through the window and directly into Mukuro's room. Unaware of what was occurring outside, Mukuro wriggled in her sleep when her mind started playing odd visions, the black mist fading when it got close enough to the Soldier.

* * *

Before she knew it, Mukuro found herself in a strange realm, this one dark as a night without stars. Even more bizarre, the girl was standing on seemingly nothing. Tapping her foot on the unknown surface, Mukuro took a step forward into the dark and proceeded to walk in hopes of finding something in the seemingly empty realm. She called out, wanting an answer before the ex-mercenary was to get more paranoid.

“Hello?” Mukuro called, “Is anybody in this empty dream of mine? If not, I’d very much like to awaken!”

While Mukuro kept walking forward, Ishimaru carefully drifted down to where she was. From beyond his hood he saw a floor of strange tiles finally appeared below Mukuro one by one, the Soldier of his affections running faster into what became a strange dimension of unknown orbs and walls of an eggshell white. Ishimaru reached out to get her attention, only to be stopped when strange black orbs covered in numerous eyes appeared in front of Mukuro. Knowing what was coming next when the final eye opened on each one, Ishimaru put a hand to them to make every orb disappear. Shockingly, nothing happened despite trying to pull off an easy spell.

 _“Oh no, this isn't technically my realm! I sent her to the Second World one!”_ Ishimaru gasped in his head, seeing the orbs expand in front of the wary Mukuro. “MUKURO, RUN!” Ishimaru called out from above with fear.

“What?!” Mukuro gasped, not knowing where the voice came from.

When the orbs grew large enough, Mukuro sprinted forward seconds before they detonated in a fiery explosion near her. Without stopping, Mukuro inadvertently ran towards four giant marble pillars started shooting down in front of her from above, startling Mukuro as they crashed around her. Two more started heading towards Mukuro while she ran, stopping dead in her tracks with nowhere to go.

“Mukuro, hold on!” Ishimaru called out, thrusting his hands out and conjuring a strong shield bubble around Mukuro right before the pillars made contact.

“What?” Mukuro wondered, looking at the pillars breaking right in front of her new shield barrier. “Where did this come from? Who's here with me?”

“Don't ask questions! Run and I’ll meet with you towards the end!” Ishimaru floated close to Mukuro, the hood of the black God’s cloak concealing his face from Mukuro's sight. “You’ll die if you stand any longer!”

“I’ll die in my own dream?! How is that possible? And just who are you?!”

“Don't worry, you'll have your answer soon enough. Now, keep running and I’ll help you survive!”

Having no other choice, Mukuro kept going forward as Ishimaru kept the shield barrier up around her to safeguard against any other threats in the new dimension. Soon enough, all obstacles were deflected and at the end of the path did Mukuro find a strange door. Ishimaru made the shield bubble dissipate until nothing remained, encouraging Mukuro to open the door while he stayed behind her.

Mukuro, although hesitant after what just transpired, reached for the door in front of her. She pulled the large handle towards her, opening the giant portal to the other side and revealing more of the ominous dimension she was trapped in. Both her and Ishimaru looked around for more danger, relieved when nothing came. Bracing himself for what he was to do, Ishimaru floated closer to Mukuro and grabbed the surprised Soldier’s attention. She looked at him bewildered, even so when he removed his hood and showed his smiling face to her at last.

“Do I… know you from somewhere?” Mukuro asked, inspecting Ishimaru's face further while still processing the fact that he was floating.

“Yes, you do!” Ishimaru assured, grabbing Mukuro by both hands. “Well, perhaps not in this timeline, but in another we were quite close!”

“Timeline? What does that even mean… you? There isn't such thing as other ‘timelines’.”

“Oh, but there are! I'm from a horrible future that I must prevent while I'm here! If I don't… then I'll be forced to lose you all over again.”

“Lose me? Strange boy, you can't lose someone if they’ve never met you. I don't know who you are or why I'm here, but if you aren't going to make sense, then I’d like to wake up from this wacky dream.”

“Hold on!” Ishimaru let go of one of Mukuro's hands, summoning forth a blue jewel shard with black energy resonating in the center. “Here, this should paint a clearer picture for you, Mukuro.”

“What is it? This is just a glowing gem.”

“It's more than that! In this shard is every memory of your other self from the First World. Err, the world I come from where we were together.” Ishimaru saw how confused Mukuro still was, clearing his throat while keeping the shard still. “Anyways! Just take it in your hand, and everything will make perfect sense.

“Will it really? This little shard is going to give me new memories?”

“Yes, but I must warn you: some of them aren't happy ones. I promise that after you receive these, I’ll make it temporary so you don't have to keep such awful memories. But please, Mukuro! At least acknowledge what we had before!”

Sighing, Mukuro hesitantly reached for the shard containing her other self’s memories as Ishimaru pushed his hand forward for an easier reach. Before Mukuro could so much as touch the glowing shard when it started glowing brighter, a loud rumbling shook the ground she and Ishimaru were on, making the latter accidentally pull the shard away from Mukuro’s grasp. What followed for both of them next was a sudden crash to the floor by something resembling a giant ghostly hand, shattering the floor into several pieces. While Ishimaru was able to fly himself to safety with the shard of memories still in his hand, Mukuro just barely made it by leaping onto a floating piece of foreign earth, holding on for dear life.

“Mukuro, are you alright?!” Ishimaru gasped, floating over to her as Mukuro held onto the stone platform.

“Hopefully,” Mukuro panted, still winded from the sudden event. “Here’s to hoping I don’t die here--”

A fate tempted, another mysterious force of energy vaguely resembling a giant arm slammed through several stone platforms, knocking Mukuro off of hers and into the dark air. Down Mukuro went through the darkness, Ishimaru flying down after her and grabbing her form with both arms, flying forward through the Second World’s mortal-unfriendly godly realm. Almost as fast as he was carrying her, there came another explosive black orb. Before Ishimaru had time to react, the orb grew bigger as eyes sprouted over it, exploding violently and causing the teen God to let go of Mukuro and the blue memory shard, watching them both fall down into the abyss with a scream from Mukuro.

“Mukuro, hang on!” Ishimaru called out, bolting down after her as his cloak blew backwards from the speed of descent.

As she fell, Mukuro inadvertently caught the blue memory shard in her palm, the jewel reacting instantly by glowing brighter than any light she’d ever seen. Mukuro’s eyes closed for a second, opening again and appearing blurred as her mind started playing new images. In each of them, she saw memories of the First World’s initial Survival Game, both bitter and blissful in tone. Following that came the second Game of that very timeline, reflecting each moment she’d shared with Ishimaru through it all up until their only kiss before her very demise.

The shard stopped glowing and became useless once all the memories sunk in for Mukuro, the girl herself exhilarated and trying to digest every last moment of her First World self. When she was composed enough to focus even a little bit, she saw Ishimaru coming after her with open arms, flying down as fast as he could to grab her. Not knowing when she’d reach the bottom and meet her death yet again, Mukuro reached out to Ishimaru with one arm, the former Prefect grabbing it with his hand and holding onto her for dear life. Mukuro gripped back, her grasp desperate yet welcoming of Ishimaru’s sensations. Ishimaru pulled Mukuro close to him, holding onto her body with bridal-style and flying upwards after turning around from the seemingly endless abyss.

“Kiyotaka…” Mukuro breathed, watching him fly her through the darkness and catching his attention.

“Mukuro, you have your memories again?” Ishimaru gasped, relieved that Mukuro knew him again.

“Yes, but, my question is how you’re even seeing me again! I didn’t know a God could travel through time.”

“Neither did I. But thanks to a little memory modification, I was able to get the necessary information from your sister.” Ishimaru then looked at Mukuro with the utmost somber expression, his heart starting to beat sadly as he remembered what led him to go back. “Muki, being a God isn’t actually worth the Game. After you died, I was downright miserable!”

“You actually transcended _time and space_ and gave up a life of being an all-powerful deity, free to do almost whatever he pleased with the _universe_ … just to see me again? Things must have truly been awful for you if you really went through such lengths. How long were you God for?”

“I can’t say I really kept track. I’ve missed you for so long that I stopped keeping time of my godhood. Let’s just say I was in the Cathedral Of Causality for a long time, alright? For now, I have to focus on fixing things for everyone.”

“How are you going to do that? This isn’t your timeline, Taka.”

“I know that. But if I don’t do something, we’ll both be forced into another Survival Game and lose each other all over again! Not only that, but you’ll lose Naegi-kun too!”

As if going through two Survival Games was bad enough to endure, the thought of watching Naegi die all over again horrified Mukuro greatly. The pain only made worse by possibly having to lose Ishimaru with him, Mukuro held onto her second lover’s cloak, as if never wanting to let go of him.

Ishimaru kept a firm hold on Mukuro, carrying her through the dimension with every intention of keeping her safe. Right on cue, the same black orbs covered in eyes grew in an army around Ishimaru and Mukuro, the former zipping past them and shielding his love from the explosives.

He moved in several directions, flying upwards and downwards with Mukuro as they both avoided being hit by bursts of fire and turmoil. Eventually, the two crossed a threshold into a vastly spacious area, escaping any explosive eye orbs for the time being. Ishimaru looked around, seeing no sign of threats or anything that could harm Mukuro, sighing with relief as he kept her in his arms. Soon figuring he couldn't hold Mukuro forever while they were in the godly realm, Ishimaru made his hand turn dark from the fingertips to the wrist, positioning it near Mukuro's stomach.

“What are you doing?” Mukuro asked, looking at Ishimaru's pitch black hand.

“Lending you a little flight to make things easier,” Ishimaru explained. “Sorry, this might hurt, my dear.”

Ishimaru swiftly jabbed his entire hand through Mukuro, watching her gasp in pain as a gaping void was ripped through her abdomen. When the blackened hand was at long last ripped from its fleshy scabbard, the gap sealed up and the pain left Mukuro as if nothing happened. Ishimaru then told Mukuro to keep steady, releasing his hold on her as she prepared to scream during the expected fall. Surprisingly, no fall came to Mukuro, who was now floating in the air with Ishimaru. She looked down, seeing a large space between her bare feet and the ground while trying to swallow her new gift.

“I can fly?!” Mukuro gasped, floating closer to Ishimaru. “Kiyotaka, how did you do that?”

“I only transferred a small bit of my power to you,” Ishimaru explained. “It's so you can at least get through here easier.”

“You still have every intention of stopping the Games from ever happening?”

“Of course!” Ishimaru looked off into the dark distance with a serious gaze, his torn God’s cloak wafting behind him despite no apparent wind. “If I can find a way to do that, then we'll all be safe from everything. It's the happy ending everyone deserves.”

“But, if you reset everything, then… then we'll--”

Mukuro wasn't able to finish her words when she screamed upon something grabbing her. Within seconds, she found herself inside of a wiry magenta prison of sparks, the Soldier losing consciousness in the process as she floated in place within her circular captivity that was in mid-air as well. Panicked, Ishimaru flew up and over to try and free Mukuro, only for the cage to deliver watts of high voltage to him for trying to break it. Again and again did Ishimaru attempt to free Mukuro, and as the expected result, the shocks never stopped coming and inflicting pain all over his body.

“I’ll get you out of there, Muki!” Ishimaru called out, putting his open palms to the front of himself and creating black orbs that opened up red eyes on themselves.

Each orb surrounded the prison, detonating in seconds to try and break Mukuro free of her prison. Following each _BOOM_ , each fiery blast from the mystic orbs, the cage containing the unconscious Soldier wouldn’t so much as chip away despite Ishimaru’s power. Desperate to free Mukuro, Ishimaru raised his hand up and conjured some dark energy, slamming his hand downwards and striking the cage with the magical force. When the cage still refused to release Mukuro and break, Ishimaru kept at it with both hands until suddenly, a larger pair of pale, almost ghostly hands grabbed him and pulled him away from Mukuro’s prison.

Ishimaru struggled and fought to break free himself, but the giant otherworldly hands just kept pulling him closer. At long last, they let the barefoot teen God go, Ishimaru floating in front and looking around to find the source. Strangely enough, the former Hall Monitor found nothing, standing around mid-air as the torn lower half of his black cloak stood idly save for hardly noticeable sways back and forth. A few seconds after, Ishimaru found himself surrounded by an alien force, the aura mixing both black and purple in his sight as his head started to ring. The ringing stopped, making way of a voice only Ishimaru could hear.

“Who are you?” Ishimaru asked, floating amongst the aura. There was a pause, heard by Ishimaru as a formal response. “A God? Oh, you must be the Second World’s God. Kamukura-kun’s predecessor?”

“........”

“It’s quite a long story. Listen, I’m your eventual successor after Kamukura-kun. I’ve come from the future to try and stop such a bleak fate from happening.”

“........”

“My use of time travel wasn’t a waste! I just learned how to do it, and I find it to be a meaningful cause!” Ishimaru stopped, calming down before he could get too hot-headed. “Look, I didn’t go back Me knows how long in time to bicker. I came here to actually stop you from starting an unnecessary Survival Game.”

“........”

“No other choice? How could you have no other--” Ishimaru flew up closer when he heard more words come from the other god. “Your lifeline? Gods can’t die! ...Can they?”

“........”

“Oh, so they can. It just takes millions of years to do so and your time just so happened to be now. Still, isn’t there any way so you don’t have to make innocent lives kill each other?!”

“........”

“There has to be! And I’m doing this…” Ishimaru stopped, looking down at the comatose Mukuro somewhere below the void. “...I’m doing this for not just my friends and family, but somebody who’s grown to be very special to me.”

“........”

“I know. Giving up all my powers and extended lifetime does seem like a waste. But if I had to choose between that and an eternity without Mukuro, Godhood wouldn't even be a thought!”

“........”

“That's also very true. There has to be a God to keep time and space from going out of whack. But, how can we settle this fairly? You need a successor, and I want to be mortal again.”

“........”

Ishimaru hung onto every word being said to him, considering each consequence and result that could happen. When he heard the cost of the deal, he gasped, his heart sinking at such a thought happening. But, when he remembered what would happen if he rejected the plan, the deal offer suddenly sounded flawless. Hesitant, Ishimaru looked at Mukuro somberly and made his decision.

“........”

“Yes, we have a deal,” Ishimaru agreed, looking into the deity’s aura with saddened red eyes. Before anything else could be done, Ishimaru put a hand out to speak again. “Wait. If I may, can I add some things to the deal to make it fair?”

“........”

“Don't worry. You’ll still have a new God, but I still need to keep to why I came to your world in the first place.”

“........”

“Oh, I have my ways. Trust me; everything will work out for everyone after this.”

The aura slowly cleared, Ishimaru flying downwards as Mukuro's spherical prison vanished and brought her back to consciousness. Just as she awakened, Ishimaru took her by both hands and floated upwards with her. When both lovers were now awake, they looked around to see the walls very slowly vanishing in a bright light. Ishimaru was calm, yet melancholic, while Mukuro hadn't a clue what was to happen.

“Kiyotaka, what--” Mukuro started, staying in mid-air with Ishimaru as she looked at him instead of the light.

“Mukuro, I have good news and bad news,” Ishimaru told her, holding onto her soft palms with tender affection and looking her right in the eyes. “For the good news, there will be no more Survival Games happening. I’ve worked out a way to keep the time-space continuum stable.”

“How so? Wouldn't that require you staying a God?”

“Sort of. I’ll get to become my Second World self, but my powers have to stay buried and hidden. So, I’ll still be God, but I won't remember any of it and be mostly mortal. Which… bring me to the bad news.”

“What is it?”

“After we both go back to the mortal realm, all of our First World memories will be gone forever. So, like I said, I won't remember being a God, but…”

“...But we won't know each other.” Mukuro stared at the brightening ground, her mood darkening in stark contrast. “Taka, are you sure there isn't another way to do this?! This doesn't feel like a good idea!”

“I’m sorry, but no. We only grew close to each other because of the second Game, and remembering anything regarding that isn't acceptable. Isn't it better to forget any trauma and start all over?”

“N-Not like this!” Mukuro's eyes started to water, tears thickening and falling at uncontrollable rates as sobs took over her voice. “I don't want to lose you, Taka! I don't want to forget! I love you!”

“And I love you as well, Mukuro. That's why, I made a little condition for when our memories are reset.”

“Condition? What condition?”

“Well, we will forget each other and both Survival Games.” Ishimaru saw Mukuro's tearing face, linking his fingers between hers with assurance. “But! I'm going to make it so we meet again. Not only that, but we’ll be guaranteed to be happy together.”

“W-Will we?”

“We will, Mukuro. I guarantee it. After this, we can make a new life together with our loved ones. Does that sound like a plan?”

Despite her head shaking yes, Mukuro was still openly crying and letting tears fall from her face with mucus drips. Ishimaru reached a hand out to her, wiping away her tears and cupping the side of her soft face, Mukuro looking at him with shaky breaths.

“Try to smile for me, okay, Muki?” Ishimaru requested, giving a smile of his own despite the obvious sadness on his face. “You always did have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”

“Kiyotaka…” Mukuro sniffled, giving him a smile as tears kept falling. Both noticed the light around them glowing brighter, soon to consume them forever. “Before we go again, let's share one last moment together. You know, with our memories intact?”

“Of course, Mukuro. I could never refuse.”

Hands entwined in the other pair’s, Ishimaru and Mukuro looked at each other with nothing but love in their gazes. The cloak-wearing God cupped the Soldier’s freckled cheek, letting go and forging an attached mutual embrace as both leaned into each other's lips. When the light finally engulfed them both, Ishimaru and Mukuro kept at their final kiss, their tender union as strong as the love they had for each other as only a bright light surrounded the godly realm through and through.


	35. Epilogue: HAPPY END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Comment Responses:
> 
> Abysslullaby: Yep! The only time a reset is the better option (lookin' at you Undertale). Still, I think you'll like this ending just fine!
> 
> SHSL Guest: Uhh, you do realize they kissed in Ch. 33, right? It was a dying kiss, but still a kiss nonetheless! And I wouldn't worry about the whole IshiMuku thing (not that I even knew there was a crew for it bc it's such a hated ship nowadays). Let's just say things aren't quite over for them yet.
> 
> Gamekrazy306: Maybe this chapter will finally treat that. Or if not, your heart will fall out in a more positive way.
> 
> I really hope you guys like the ending. This took me a long time to write and took up 20+ pages of Google Docs to get done. Enjoy, all of my lovely readers! I couldn't have done this story without any of you!

Throughout an early sunlit bedroom sounded the blaring alarm of a modern clock. In the bed beside it was Kiyotaka Ishimaru, whose eyelids trembled for a moment before opening up to a blurry environment. Rubbing his scarlet eyes clean, Ishimaru shut off the clock to see it was 6:00 in the morning.

Yawning, Ishimaru got out of bed with the intention of getting dressed for the big day. Before he did, he noticed a notification on his close white and red phone. Flipping the screen up with his thumb, Ishimaru pressed a button to clear the blackness and read the bright screen. When he saw something, he squinted and looked closer at an odd message.

“Who sent this to me?” Ishimaru wondered. “And who’s the ‘SHSL Soldier’? I don't know anybody with that title.” He looked more into the message, spotting a request. “It’s urgent that I meet them? But where-- ah! I can't fool around! I have to get dressed! It's the first day of the new year!”

Greeted by nothing but the sunlight of the new Spring day, Ishimaru removed his pajamas, folding them neatly and putting them on the bed. Going into his closet, he brushed through his usual white uniforms in favor of a brown one that had a formal jacket in place of a gakuran.

He pulled the pants up and belted them over his waist, putting on a white dress shirt followed by a red necktie. After pulling the brown dress coat over his torso, Ishimaru put on a clean pair of black socks before fastening his knee-high boots of the same color over his pants. For the finishing touch, Ishimaru pulled the red and black Disciplinary Committee armband up his left limb, giving himself a salute in the mirror once proud of his appearance.

Ishimaru looked at the phone on his nightstand, reading the odd message again before closing the device and putting it right into his pants pocket. Rather than ignore it, Ishimaru chose to heed the message and make it a personal goal for the first day. Seeing how he still had quite some time to pass before breakfast, Ishimaru decided to begin a daily routine of morning stretches.

* * *

An hour and a half passed, and almost everyone was in the cafeteria for breakfast after being informed of their homerooms. As typical of him, Ishimaru sat at the table near the door where Mondo and Chihiro were waiting, their own uniforms nearly identical to his in terms of color (though whereas Mondo and Ishimaru were wearing pants, Chihiro donned a brown skirt with suspenders under the jacket). Whilst conversing, Ishimaru took another look at the message on his phone, showing his friends for clues.

“A SHSL Soldier?” Chihiro wondered, inspecting the cryptic message. “Is there anyone at this school with that talent?”

“Not that I know of,” Ishimaru said. “But I’m sure they have to exist somewhere around here!”

“A Soldier… ah!” Mondo realized, recalling the homeroom roster. “Yeah, Taka, I think someone like that’s supposed ta be in our class. What was their name… Ikusaba, or whatever?”

“Ikusaba? Well then, I’ll have to remember them! I’m not sure who sent this message, but I must follow it!”

Closing his phone and putting it in his pocket, Ishimaru picked up his dirtied empty dishes and carried them away to the kitchen, carefully washing out the plate and mug until it was free of any stains. Once it was dried and put away, Ishimaru went back to the table and gathered his things, telling Mondo and Chihiro he’d see them later on in class. Both said bye in return, watching Ishimaru march out of the cafeteria and to his first homeroom session of the year like the early bird he was.

Ishimaru followed the correct directions to the classroom hosting his advisory, keeping in mind his first objective of the day made since he woke up beforehand. Through the first floor did Ishimaru traverse the corridors of Hope’s Peak Academy, stopping right in front of the specific classroom he’d been looking for. Straightening his crimson necktie, Ishimaru took a step forward after opening the door, going inside to see two other students had beaten him to being the first on arrival. His head sunk in disappointment from the desire to be first that would not be, but Ishimaru decided to start looking for his selected student.

From his new desk, Ishimaru saw a boy in an identical brown first day uniform that looked about his age with spiked auburn hair reaching down to the neck, an oddly shaped ahoge situated atop his head. The florid and shyly smiling girl he was happily conversing with had a light dusting of tan freckles across her face, her bobbed black hair neatly brushed and clipped back at the bangs. While the boy smiled right at her, the girl looked down for a moment before looking back, lightly chuckling as the blush on her face refused to leave.

“So, you said you had a weird dream this morning?” the boy asked.

“Y-Yes,” the girl answered. “I don’t remember most of it, but I think I was in some other world. I believe I almost died.”

“You almost died?! Holy crap, that’s scary! How did you make it out?”

“I’m… not sure. But I think there was some shadow. It must have saved my life or something.” She sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. “Whatever, the dream’s over and done. Too bad I don’t recall the majority of it.”

Ishimaru set his belongings down, still intending to look for the person his phone had instructed him to meet. Not sure how to strike up even the simplest of conversations, he thought of several different methods on starting and what might happen through each. He knew he had to make this one different from the others; long and meaningful to make an important possible relationship. Sucking air through his nostrils, Ishimaru marched close enough to his other two classmates and cleared phlegm from his throat, catching their attention. Once the ocular pairs of olive and gray-blue were on him, Ishimaru nearly flinched as his own scarlet ones shook once, focusing dead on them. While the auburn-haired boy gave Ishimaru a smile and a light wave, the indifferent girl next to him stopped paying attention to the one she hadn’t been talking to. In the seconds before she’d turned away, she felt a brief twinge in her heart upon looking at Ishimaru, as if something in her mind truly did want to meet him.

“Hello there,” the shorter boy greeted. “My name’s Makoto Naegi. What’s yours?”

“I am Kiyotaka Ishimaru!” Ishimaru responded loudly, putting his hand to the front for Naegi to shake. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Naegi-kun! And, if it’s not too much trouble, would you happen to know where I can find the ‘SHSL Soldier’? I heard they’re a fellow classmate!”

“Actually, this is her right here,” Naegi pointed out while shaking Ishimaru’s hand, gesturing to the distant Mukuro. Mukuro looked up at Ishimaru, eyes blinking once in bewilderment until she turned away from him. “Ikusaba-san, it’s okay. Don’t be shy.”

“I’m typically not comfortable with anybody besides you and my sister,” Mukuro insisted.

“Well, this is your chance to get to know the rest of our classmates. Come on! Ishimaru-kun seems to want to meet you.”

Mukuro set her eyes on Ishimaru again, the Hall Monitor waving with a bright smile of his own. While apprehensive, Mukuro inspected the boy with thick eyebrows once out of her seat, scanning him from head to toe as something inside felt… strangely calm. Likewise, Ishimaru took a look at Mukuro, an odd feeling telling him she was to certainly be trusted at all costs. Both took silent seconds examining each other, hands tempted to reach out but being pulled back from objecting.

“Are you the SHSL Soldier?” Ishimaru asked Mukuro.

“Yes, I am,” Mukuro answered, nodding once. “My name is Mukuro Ikusaba. Did you say your name is Kiyotaka Ishimaru?”

“Indeed it is, Ikusaba-kun! I’m the SHSL Hall Monitor! And you’re just the person I was looking for!” Ishimaru reached his hand out, Mukuro grabbing it and shaking it up and down in an amiable manner.

“I am?” Mukuro wondered, bewildered. “Why’s that?”

“I can’t quite tell you the real reason, but…” Ishimaru looked at Mukuro again, still feeling the comfort and trust for motives he wasn’t aware of. “I feel as though you’re trustworthy; someone I don’t have to worry about being near.”

“Trustworthy?” Mukuro thought about the word, not expecting it to come out of Ishimaru’s mouth. “Not very many people say that about me at first glance, especially considering I’m a dangerous Soldier.”

“Ikusaba-san, you’re not dangerous,” Naegi insisted, giving Mukuro hope in her heart. “Yeah, your title does sound scary at first, but you use your training when you need it!”

“Don’t all soldiers?” Ishimaru wondered. “That being said, if you didn’t use discretion, then I don’t think you’d be called a ‘soldier’, exactly.”

It was surprising enough that Ishimaru said she was trustworthy on the spot, but now Mukuro just found out he was another rare exception to the common murderous misconception placed upon her by others. Typically, she’d object to it by seemingly siding with those misunderstandings, but Ishimaru felt different for her. She didn’t take her eyes off of him, looking at the Hall Monitor as if he were some long-lost artifact missing to the world for so many years.

“Ishimaru-kun,” she started.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Is this… this is the first time I’m meeting you, right? I can’t put my finger on it, but something about you feels familiar. My apologies if I sound bizarre, but--”

“--No no, you don’t sound odd. In fact, I’m getting the same feeling. Perhaps we’ve seen each other before?”

“How is that possible? We just made a formal introduction, so it can’t be.” When Mukuro made eye contact with Ishimaru, she blinked as though a spark of memory ignited in her brain. _“Wait… was he the shadow in my dream…? The eyes certainly look familiar, but what are the odds of that happening?”_

“Well, if we do know each other, then maybe both of us could stay true to that.” Ishimaru looked somewhat nervous about what he thought of asking. “If you don't mind permitting me, would you perhaps like to sit together later on at lunch?”

“Sit at lunch? That’s, that’s assuming my sister…” Mukuro stopped talking, looking at the ever-friendly Naegi. “Wait, no. As much as I wouldn’t mind having you at a table with me, I already planned on sitting with Naegi. I’d accept your offer, but three might be a crowd.”

“Oh, Ikusaba-san, I don’t mind,” Naegi insisted, much to Ishimaru’s brightened hope. “You and Ishimaru-kun already seem to be on good terms, so there’s no reason he can’t sit with us later.”

“Good terms? Well, we--”

“--If it’s truly alright with the both of you, then I shall join you at lunch!” Ishimaru was already perky, clasping Mukuro’s hands together with joy as the smile never left his face.

Mukuro looked at Ishimaru with curious eyes. Typically, if anybody else had done this to her, she’d have taken action by pulling her hands away and shooing them off coldly. But, here was Ishimaru in front of her, and she had yet to do anything about it but stare. Eventually, she took her hands from his warm ones, something in the back of her mind hesitant about doing so. When she looked at Naegi’s welcoming face, Mukuro’s worries seemed to have disappeared with the fluttering of her enticed heart. Seeing how their other classmates were starting to come in for class, Mukuro took her seat next to Naegi’s without batting an eyelash as she told Ishimaru to meet them during lunch at a specific table.

“Then it’s a deal, Ikusaba-kun!” Ishimaru declared, choosing a desk near Mukuro’s as his regular seat. “I’ll meet you there at noon.”

“I look forward to it, Ishimaru-kun,” Mukuro told him, a smile almost coming across her face as the first class’ inception drew nigh.

* * *

A mere hours passed by, noon time falling upon Hope’s Peak Academy. For some, it meant another class on the first day of the new year. But for others like Ishimaru, noon was just an alternate way of saying “lunch time”. Gathering his things, he left the classroom and carried them towards the cafeteria. As he walked, Ishimaru was approached by Mondo, who was just as happy to see his friend as the Hall Monitor was.

“Hey, Kyoudai!” Mondo greeted. “Ya’ve got lunch this period too?”

“Why yes, I do,” Ishimaru answered, facing Mondo. “Did you need me for something?”

“Chihiro’s out with his cousin for the next two periods, so I was gonna ask if ya wanted ta join me fer a sit in the sauna. Whaddya say?”

“Mondo, I’d love to--” Ishimaru was about to completely agree to Mondo’s request when he noticed Mukuro walking by with Junko, who didn’t appear to be giving her sister any heed despite the Soldier’s humble efforts. “Actually, perhaps tomorrow would be better. I have plans today.”

“You do? With who?”

“A new friend I’m starting to make! Remember that SHSL Soldier girl I asked you about?”

“Oh, y’mean the one in our class with the scary eyes and freckles? You’re friends with ‘er?”

“Well, not officially. But soon, we just might be! Although…” Ishimaru pinched his chin, looking downwards with squinting eyes. “Something about Ikusaba-kun feels… familiar. Almost welcoming and like we were meant to be close.”

“What? But ya just met her today. How could you feel close with someone ya just met?”

“I’m not certain myself, but I feel like it could be true.” The bell to begin the current period rang, prompting Ishimaru to scramble his things and hurry towards the cafeteria. “I can’t talk right now, Kyoudai! Ikusaba-kun’s waiting for me!”

Ishimaru made his way down the hall in a speed-walking motion, arriving at the cafeteria at last. He looked all around for Mukuro among the crowded room, eyes scanning his new environment in search of the Soldier girl. Ishimaru went past table after table trying to find Mukuro. Much to his relief, he at last spotting her with Naegi at the table Junko just walked away from in favor of joining a male with choppy shoulder-length black hair and a short-sleeved white shirt and black tie splotched with red. Shoving past Ishimaru, Junko latched onto the taller boy affectionately, while said male merely rolled his hazel-blue eyes in disgust.

“Morning, Yasuke-kun~,” Junko purred, nuzzling her neck into the boy.

“Oh great, I share a lunch period with Miss Ugly,” Yasuke scoffed, folding his arms. “What do you want, Junko?”

“I can’t spend time with my boo? Yasu, have a heart, won’t ya?”

“I’ll ‘have a heart’ when your face finally stops breaking hundreds of mirrors in one look.” Yasuke let out a huff, looking down at the clinging Junko. “If you’re going to follow me, Junko, then the least you can do is get off.”

As the two walked off, Junko placed a kiss on Yasuke’s neck, making the boy shudder with an ambiguous emotion before he shook it off like it was nothing. Ishimaru turned away from the brief PDA, his attention brought back to his original intent when he saw Naegi wave to call him to the table. Hurrying over, Ishimaru took a seat directly in front of Mukuro, who gave the Prefect a wave of her own as a light smile graced her face.

“Salutations, Ishimaru-kun,” Mukuro greeted, still smiling.

“Why hello, Ikusaba-kun!” Ishimaru chirped, waving back vigorously before noticing the smile on her face. A nearly-invisible rose color filled his face, some parts of his heart fluttering from Mukuro’s smile for some odd reason. “You ought to do that more often.”

“Do what? Am I doing something extraordinary?”

“Smile, I mean. You have a rather pretty one.”

Mukuro let out a noise of surprise, her own freckled cheeks turning a bright pink as she turned away shyly. The index finger curled at the Soldier’s mouth only signified how flustered she’d become from such a compliment. She did give Ishimaru a smaller version of her previous smile, but seemed to give her full potential when Naegi spoke next.

“Ikusaba-san does have a nice smile,” Naegi agreed, making Mukuro’s blush burn brighter. “See? Even Ishimaru-kun notices the obvious. I think you and him would really start to get along.”

Just hearing Naegi’s agreement made Mukuro’s heart flutter with a long-standing affection, the smile not leaving her face because of it. When Ishimaru began to try and start up a conversation, Mukuro’s attention went from Naegi to him, slowly hanging onto every word as the talk carried onward. The Soldier felt bewildered-- typically only listening to Naegi and her sister this much-- strangely devoting even a shred of her attention towards guy she’d seemingly just met in her life. But strange as it was, something about Ishimaru felt… calming to Mukuro, the fact that her otherwise frigid appearance hadn’t deterred him even a little bit at first sight. However, the Soldier found no viable reason for her comfort and mild joy, instead choosing to make with what she had now.

“--And thus, abiding to conduct is excruciatingly important!” Ishimaru concluded. “Don’t you agree, Ikusaba-kun?”

“Yes,” Mukuro answered. “Without following proper training or rules, one would more than likely wind up in quite a funk. Or in regards to combat, they’d be dead.”

“M-My thoughts exactly!” Ishimaru piped out, surprised yet joyful. “A little hard work always goes a long way! There’s simply no other way around it!”

“Of course. Most things cannot be handed to you on a silver platter. If you don’t earn some things the hard way, then you are hardly fit for survival.”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say ‘survival’, per se, but you are correct! Those are the people guaranteed to crumble the easiest!”

Mukuro caught a glint of resent in Ishimaru’s eyes when he’d said that, but it wasn’t directed towards her at all. Instead, the Prefect had looked away from the Soldier with his suppressed feeling while Naegi got up to get his food. Mukuro watched the auburn-haired boy walk away, slowly pulling herself from the sight to catch Ishimaru’s attention. When she had with visible concern, Ishimaru appeared startled because of the sudden snap back to reality.

“Perhaps we should change the subject if this makes you uncomfortable,” Mukuro suggested. “Erm, do you have any hobbies you enjoy when you aren’t busy?”

“Well, I mostly put my free time into studying and doing my best to stay on top!” Ishimaru announced. “As someone who aspires to lead and change this country, I must keep trying my best no matter what!”

“But, aren’t there hobbies you enjoy doing besides that? Something to give your brain a rest?”

“Hmm… ah, yes! From time to time, I keep up my kendō abilities so I don’t slack on those either! It is a healthy stress reliever.”

“You practice kendō? So, that means you have fairly proficient skills in combat, then.”

“You could say that, Ikusaba-kun. Obviously, your prowess exceeds mine by a long shot, but I do consider myself pretty efficient!”

Mukuro nodded with a light smile, continuing to converse with Ishimaru while awaiting Naegi’s return. The more the Hall Monitor and Soldier spoke about their personal interests while heeding the other’s, the more invested they seemed to get in the conversation and each other. Even when the Luckster student returned and inadvertently snapped away a good portion of Mukuro’s attention, the girl still balanced that attention with talking to her potential new friend. Something within both Ishimaru and Mukuro resonated with a strange warm tenderness, such a feeling believed to be nothing out of the ordinary save for a new bond. All the more, the two found each other growing more attached at a gradual rate.

* * *

Elsewhere that morning, police sirens blared outside a home none too far from the city limits. From the window was a groggy Souda, his pink hair frazzled and messy while he reached over to the circular case beside his lamp. Taking out two identical pink sticky circles, Souda held an eyelid at a time steady to insert each prescription contact onto his irises, changing them from dolphin gray to neon pink. Blinking the contacts into place, Souda's vision became clearer as he went to the window to see why the police had come. When he saw and heard his tyrant father's voice outside, the Mechanic couldn't believe it.

“Let go ‘a me right now!” his father shouted, struggling like a savage boar in the grip of the officer Takaaki Ishimaru. “I didn't beat anybody! She's lyin’!”

“Really now?” Takaaki wondered skeptically. “Because the bruises and black eye on your wife say otherwise. You’re coming with me, pal.”

“Damn it, Kaori!” the arrested man barked to his wife, who stood strong despite shaking with some nerve. “When I get out, you’re gonna fucking get it! You hear me?!”

“You won’t,” Kaori retorted as her abusive husband was cuffed tightly and taken into the police car that was locked and shut. The man still continued to fuss and bark in his restraints from within, his wife going inside the home now belonging to her.

Takaaki sighed at the sight of the violent man he’d just arrested, getting into the driver’s seat and buckling up. He prepared to take off when the phone installed in his vehicle rang. Starting the engine and driving off, Takaaki answered the call while focusing on the road ahead, pleased to hear the voice on the other line when he’d greeted them.

“Hi, Ta-kun!” the voice of his wife, Chiyo chirped with affection. “How has your day been going so far?”

“Hello, my dear,” Takaaki greeted back with a smile. “It’s been alright. I just made a successful arrest.” He could hear the muffled shouts of the charged man behind the glass barrier from the riders’ seat. “Now we’re taking him into custody.”

“What’s he in for?”

“Domestic assault. His wife finally dialed 119 and I was sent over to take action.”

“Thank God for that! I’d bet that ex-wife of his is much better off now! People like that who mistreat their families are just disgusting!”

“I agree. But don’t worry, Chiyo, depending on where this goes, he won’t be hurting anybody else. Now, I’m almost at the station, so I’ll see you later on before dinner, okay?”

“Okay, Ta-kun! Come home on time and stay safe! I love you!”

Takaaki replied to Chiyo with an “I love you too, my dear” before hanging up the phone and resuming his drive to the Apparition Kingdom to properly apprehend his recent arrest. The man in the back eventually stopped fussing, tiring himself out and presently wallowing in a sea of frustration.

At the Souda household, the bruised Kaori Souda went back inside, feeling more than flummoxed from what she’d finally done. She swore she heard footsteps hurrying back to a spot upstairs, but the woman let it be in favor of fetching an ice pack from the kitchen to treat her black eye with. As she passed the living room, she saw a family portrait of herself, her husband, and Souda, all three happy and smiling for the camera. Her eyebrows creased downwards in disgust, turning the picture onto its front with the reminder to modify it later. Although Kaori felt something akin to shame and remorse about what happened, she looked upstairs at where her son’s room was and tried to calm herself.

“It may have all been my fault,” Kaori sighed, “but if it meant protecting my child, then it was worth it. At least… at least that horrible man won’t hurt him anymore than he will me.” She walked into the kitchen, searching the fridge for her ice pack. “Kazuichi-kun ought to have a nice surprise when he wakes up. I’ll break it to him then.”

Unbeknownst to the woman, upstairs in his bed again was the half-awake Souda. Although his eyes were shut and his heart pounded from anticipation and slight nerve from what he’d witnessed happen outside, the weary Mechanic’s lips turned up to a smile that showed a bit of sharpened teeth. Souda continued to lie in his bed even as he heard footsteps come up the stairs, but when the door opened to reveal the Mechanic’s mother, he groggily rose in his sleeping vessel to face his remaining parent.

“Hrmm… mornin’, Ma,” Souda greeted, rubbing the grains from his eyes while mindful of his contacts.

“Good morning, Kazuichi-kun,” Kaori said to her son with a weary smile, still holding the ice pack to one of her gray eyes. “I have some news for you.”

“Really? Well, lay it on me before I head to my shop.”

“It's kind of crucial. This is something I’d rather discuss at breakfast, okay, dear?”

“Sounds like a plan! I’ll be up an’ dressed in a minute, ‘k, Mom?”

Kaori nodded and kissed Souda in the cheek good morning while hugging him tightly. Souda felt tears on his cheeks, but they weren't his own. He noticed his mother shaking with quiet sobs. Feeling bad, Souda continued to embrace the woman with promises of things being okay for them and that he’d see her at a better breakfast session. Kaori finally let go of her son, wiping her tears away and pulling herself together. When she left with a sad smile, Souda got out of his bed and headed for his closet. He took a clean pair of yellow coveralls out, pulling them up over his tri-colored boxers with lingering satisfaction.

“Definitely a big change, but… I’ve never felt more free,” Souda said to himself, zipping the coveralls on. “Though now, I'm gonna look out fer Mom too! The least I could do after all her work.”

* * *

In a park further away, Mahiru was patiently waiting near a tree under the warm Spring sun with a black SLR Camera in her hands. Rather than wear her typical green jumper, the red-haired Photographer had on a plain yellow T-shirt and denim shorts rolled up on the legs that seemed to have the rim extend towards her navel. On her feet were simple black ankle socks underneath red and white sneakers. Mahiru tapped a foot against the grass, waiting a little longer for a certain two people to arrive.

“Girls, where are you?” Mahiru sighed, still looking out for her friends. “We agreed on taking the photo now before we visit Satou and go to lunch! Where are you--”

“--Big Sis Koizumi, we’re here!” Saionji panted from the distance, running to try and keep up with the swift Ibuki. “Don’t take the picture yet!”

Mahiru saw her friends running towards her in the shrinking distance, both wearing different outfits than usual. While Ibuki had on an olive green short-sleeved shirt that showed her left shoulder and bra strap along with short jean shorts over fishnets and her usual shoes, Saionji was adorned with blue jean knee-length overalls over a lime green T-shirt and orange-and-brown striped stockings inside cyan and white sneakers.

“Ibuki-chan and Hiyoko-chan have arrived!” Ibuki sang merrily, posing in front of the tree for the picture.

“Yeah, after you almost left me behind, stupid!” Saionji snapped, cranky. “You should know I’m not as fast as you, Big Sis Mioda! Get that through your thick head already!”

“Hiyoko-chan, don’t blow your top today,” Mahiru warned. “We’re all just here to have fun and hang out together since we were all free for once.”

“Alright, Big Sis…” Saionji sighed, getting into position next to Ibuki and appearing visibly vexed when the taller girl put a friendly arm around her and posed.

“We’re all ready to take the picture, Mahiru-chan!” Ibuki chirped as Mahiru stood backwards.

“Well, technically not all of us,” Mahiru sighed. “It sucks Mikan-chan was too busy today.”

“Pffft, why are you complaining?” Saionji cackled, “If anything, you should be happy we don’t have to deal with her! That worthless pig whore would probably break the lens just by looking at it!”

All Mahiru could do at that statement was sigh and let it pass, setting up her portable tripod and telling the girls to get into position. Adjusting the buttons and timer, Mahiru ran next to her friends by the tree and posed until a flash went off. When the brief light died, all three girls relaxed as Mahiru checked her camera and saved the photo. Looking at it longer, Mahiru's face fell with sorrow from another person missing.

“Mahiru-chan! Why are you standing there all sad and stuff?” Ibuki asked with loud concern.

“I’m fine, Ibuki-chan,” Mahiru lied. “It's just… the photo’s always gonna be empty no matter what.”

“Ah, don't tell me you're actually sad that ugly little slut didn't make it to the photo!” Saionji groused in reference to a certain Nurse.

“I’m not talking about Mikan-chan,” Mahiru corrected, folding her tripod and putting it away.

“O-Oh, right…” Saionji realized, recalling somebody else. “Well, aren't we gonna go visit Big Sis Satou’s grave? She’d probably like us stopping by.”

“I know she would but… I can't help but still feel like it's my fault she--” Mahiru stopped herself, seeing the upset expressions of Saionji and Ibuki. “...Nevermind. Let's just get going. The photo came out great!”

“Next stop, the flower shop!” Ibuki pointed out, pointing to the flower shop’s direction with both index fingers. “Then we all go see Satou-chan!”

Mahiru left the park with Saionji and Ibuki, all three girls feeling rather melancholic. Nonetheless, they kept moving forward to their next stop on their planned day together. The girls crossed the street, making their way to the fragrant flower shop as a means of commencing the visit to their late friend, looking around and picking out different types of flora.

* * *

“Okay, Komaeda-kun,” Mikan said in a gentle tone, rubbing medical alcohol over Komaeda's veined arm exposed by his rolled up sleeve. “We're just going with the cyclophosphamide shot today, okay?”

“Understood, Nurse,” Komaeda agreed, not at all bothered by it.

In a specialized hospital room, Mikan kept Komaeda steady on the slanted hospital sport bed and prepared the syringe needle full of the necessary drug. She placed two gentle fingers on the skin to make sure it was stable, inserting the needle into the limb and releasing the chemical through his vein. Komaeda winced slightly from the sharp prick, calming down when the needle was removed and the spot wrapped with a small amount of gauze. His arm was still sore from the injection, so Mikan told him to stay put for a few moments longer.

“G-Great job t-today, Komaeda-kun,” Mikan said, writing something down on a clipboard. “D-Don’t forget, you have another treatment appointment with me next Friday, a-alright?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare forget, Tsumiki-san,” Komaeda assured her, pulling the hoodie sleeve down his arm again. “The least somebody like me who’s worth less than a rotting dumpster could do is remember an important appointment.”

“K-Komaeda-kun, I really wish you wouldn’t say such things about yourself. You're in n-no way w-worth less than trash or a-anything like that! You're just as much of a human b-being as everyone else!”

“If you can even call me that, Tsumiki-san. Oh well, to each their own, I suppose. You said next Friday, correct?”

“Y-Yes. At noon, Komaeda-kun. I-If you can m-make it, that is! If you c-can’t, I don’t m-mind--”

“I’ll be able to make it, don’t worry.” Komaeda looked at the current time. “Er, but I’m holding somebody up in the lobby. Would you mind walking with me, Nurse? Even if I am your lowliest patient?”

“I don’t m-mind, Komaeda-kun. Let’s g-go now.”

Mikan led Komaeda out of the room, keeping him walking at a steady pace. They passed a door or two down the white halls of the hospital until they arrived at the lobby. Komaeda looked around for his companion, only to find no one. While both surprised and not, Komaeda let himself smile somberly as he rubbed his sore arm.

“Wh-Where's the p-person you were t-talking about, Komaeda-kun?” Mikan asked. “Aren't they picking y-you up?”

“Not here, and supposedly,” Komaeda answered to both questions. “Oh well, I don't blame him, really. There isn't anybody with half a brain who’d want a thing to do with a living compost.”

“K-Komaeda-kun, I'm s-sure they--”

Just as Mikan tried to cheer up Komaeda, she failed to heed her footing and found herself falling directly onto the shag carpeting. Mikan yelped in her fall, staying on the ground despite being hurt. When she heard a voice after slight footsteps, the fragile Nurse was given the incentive to move a bit.

“Hey, are you alright down there?” the male voice questioned.

Mikan finally looked up, her somewhat teary gray-violet eyes catching the boy with spiky chestnut hair who was speaking. From his white shoes and black pants up to the marked green tie dangling from a white short-sleeved shirt, his extended hand was deemed as friendly as the olive green eyes looking down at Mikan. Though hesitant, Mikan extended her hand and let the boy pull her up off the ground.

“Th-Thank you,” Mikan stuttered, twiddling her fingers ruefully. “S-Sorry, I should have been m-more careful! If y-you want, you can p-punish me! I don't mind!”

“What? Why would I do that?” the boy wondered. “It was just a little fall. It looked like it hurt though, are you okay?”

“Y-Yes, I am. Again, s-sorry about that. Uhh, what brings you to the hospital? Do you need help?”

“No, I'm just here to pick up my--”

“--Hinata-kun!” Komaeda exclaimed in joyous surprise, immediately running over to Hinata and hugging him tightly. “Here I am afraid you wouldn’t show up! Even if it is for garbage such as I, it brings me hope to just see you!”

“Why wouldn't I show up?” Hinata asked, letting Komaeda hug him a few seconds longer. “Nagito, have a little more faith in me than that.”

“S-So, y-your name is Hinata?” Mikan asked meekly.

“Yeah.” Hinata smiled at Mikan and held his hand out. “My name's Hajime Hinata. What's yours?”

“M-M…” Mikan stuttered, looking down at Hinata's hand as if it were some ancient artifact. “M-Mikan Tsumiki,” she finally answered, shaking Hinata's hand at last. “I-I'm the nurse K-Komaeda-kun sees f-for treatment. It's v-very nice to meet you, Hinata-kun.”

“It's nice to meet you too, Tsumiki. So, when's Nagi’s next appointment?”

“A w-week from Friday at 12 noon. I hope he can make it. B-But if he can't, th-then I d-don't--”

“--Fear not, Tsumiki-san!” Komaeda interrupted. “If me dirtying your presence brings you glorious hope, then who am I to deprive you of it? Especially since you bothered to show garbage like me the time of day.”

“O-Okay. So, I’ll see the two of you next w-week then?”

“I’ll be sure he's on time,” Hinata said, starting to leave with Komaeda as the latter held onto the former’s hand. “Have a nice day, Tsumiki.”

“M-Me?” Mikan wondered, pointing to herself shakily as her lip quivered. “Y-You both have a nice day too!” Mikan waved to Hinata as he left, putting two hands to her racing heart as her face turned rather pink. _“I’ve never gotten such nice words before… And he sounded like he meant it too!”_ she thought, smiling to herself from what just happened.

Walking down the street, Hinata led Komaeda away from the hospital, making no effort to pull his hand away from Komaeda's. The blue and green phone in his pocket buzzed, prompting the spiky-haired boy to answer it. In his device, he saw a new text from someone he knew, reading it word for word. Komaeda’s attention went to the same spot, seeing Hinata had a new message.

“Who’s it from?” Komaeda asked.

“Nanami,” Hinata answered. “She just told me she’s gotta pick something up with her cousin and can’t meet up with us until after.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“Ehh… some kinda shop in Sakai Town. She said it was urgent that she goes.”

“Well, until we see Nanami-san, we could pass time together,” Komaeda suggested, his cheeks turning slightly pink from the thought. “Would that make you hopeful, Hinata-kun?”

“I guess it would, Nagi,” Hinata answered with a small smile of his own, putting his phone away and continuing to walk with Komaeda. “At least until we see Nanami later on.”

* * *

In Sakai Town miles away, walking towards the local game shop were none other than Chihiro Fujisaki and Chiaki Nanami themselves. The latter of the two had a sleepy, yet anticipated look on her face as she approached the store. Chihiro, on the other hand, kept worriedly looking between his digital phone clock and the other direction. When he arrived at the shop with his “cousin”, Chihiro's face fell when he saw the lengthy line pointing at the cash register.

“Chiaki-san, can we hurry this up, please?” Chihiro pleaded. “Lunch could end any minute and I need to get back for my last class.”

“Hrmm… Chihiro, this won’t take long,” Nanami assured with a yawn. “Besides, you know how long I’ve been waiting for this game to come out! Plus, it’s a sale. How could I _not_ get it today?”

“Then they picked a really bad day to have a sale…” Chihiro let out a sigh, watching the line get somewhat shorter while keeping track of the time.

Although internally impatient, Chihiro chose to stay with Nanami as the line started to shrink. In a matter of minutes that seemed much longer to the Hacker, both teens made it to the cash register at long last with Nanami’s game copy. Nanami took her time getting the money out and giving it to the cashier, the process going slowly in Chihiro’s eyes as said cashier rang up the Gamer and handed her the receipt.

“Enjoy your game, Miss--” the cashier started to say until Chihiro quickly grabbed Nanami by the wrist and ran out with her.

“--Sorry, we’re on a tight schedule!” Chihiro apologized as he practically ran out of the store with his “cousin”.

“Chihiro, how much time until your lunch period ends?” Nanami asked, a little miffed that she’d been yanked out of the store.

“Uhh… less than fifteen minutes!” Chihiro gasped. “And it takes almost ten to get from here to there! We’d better hurry, Chiaki-san!”

Chihiro let go of Nanami's wrist and started running with her down the sidewalk. As two pairs of white shoes tacked down the pavement, both stopped dead when up running was something small. Upon closer inspection, Chihiro became joyous when he saw the small creature was a red and white hamster with a sunflower seed bitten once in its mouth. Kneeling down, Chihiro cupped his hands to let the hamster climb aboard before picking it up.

“Chiaki-san, look!” Chihiro beamed, showing the girl the hamster. “Isn't it adorable?”

“Chihiro, should you really be picking up a stray pet like that?” Nanami wondered. “Not that it’d be the first time, but--”

“--Unhand Sun-D, you subordinate fiend!” a deep male voice boomed from behind the surrogate cousins.

Storming up to Chihiro and Chiaki was a boy around the latter's age wearing dark clothes and a flowing violet scarf that blew back with each stomp of the black boots. Within the fabric were three hamsters; one with a chipped left ear, one orange and chubby, and the last in a deep sleep. Their owner stopped right in front of the other two teenagers, looking down at a meek Chihiro with a glare in his bicolored eyes.

“H-Hello,” Chihiro gulped with a stutter, still holding Sun-D in his palms. “I’m so sorry, I d-didn't know this was your hamster!”

“Ha, yet another crude being still fails to comprehend the power of the Four Dark Gods Of Destruction!” did the taller bellow, lowering his bandaged hand so Sun-D could return safely. “It appears that I, the one and only Gundam Tanaka, still remain the sole being who lacks ignorance!”

“‘Four Dark Gods’? Oh, I'm s-sorry,” Chihiro apologized sincerely, seeing all four hamsters in Gundam's scarf. “I didn't realize how important they were! My bad…”

“Indeed it is. However, docile one, should you and I ever cross paths again--”

“--I mean, they probably are very special to you. Even if they are deities, I just couldn't help myself. Your Four Dark Gods… they're just so cute and cuddly I could die!” Chihiro stopped talking once he noticed the surprise on Gundam's face, shrinking with shyness as he backed up towards a defensive Nanami.

“Did you… just refer to the almighty Four Dark Gods Of Destruction as… ‘cute’? And even so ‘cuddly’?!”

Chihiro was expecting Gundam to get angry from an otherwise harmless statement, fearing he’d offended the owner. Instead, the Hacker calmed down when Gundam instead pulling his scarf over his rather ruddy and timid expression. Eyes once bold now softened from such a compliment towards his small furry friends, unsure of how to take it.

“Thank you, docile one,” Gundam uttered.

“Oh, you're welcome, Tanaka-kun!” Chihiro replied with a smile. “But, my actual name is Chihiro Fujisaki, not ‘docile one’.”

“Hmph, very well, Fujisaki! Until the hour we are to cross paths again, I shall escort the Four Dark Gods to our rightful destination!”

Walking right past Chihiro and Nanami, Gundam stormed off proudly. While Chihiro smiled at the other boy as he departed, Nanami kept walking with him and looking back with wearily blank expression.

“He's a strange one,” Nanami commented.

“Y-Yeah, but Tanaka-kun still seemed nice!” Chihiro added until he gasped looking at the time on his phone. “Crap! Chiaki, we can't waste anymore time! I gotta go!”

When Chihiro started running ahead, Nanami let out a yawn and followed whilst gripping her game-carrying bag. Minding passerby folk, Chihiro kept an eye on the time as he ran, his legs refusing to quit until the right destination was near enough to slow down.

* * *

At Hope's Peak a little later on, Hifumi Yamada came out from the kitchen holding a porcelain teacup of a special tea type boiled together with milk. He took the small cup to the girl sitting patiently at a table with her legs crossed and chin resting in her palm, Celestia Ludenberg. When Yamada was close enough to Celes with the cup of milk tea, he handed it to her porcelain coaster and all. He watched the Gambler accept the fancy cup of her favored drink, Celes herself looking into it with a somewhat skeptical expression before taking a sip. Yamada had his fingers crossed the whole time he watched her lick her glossed pink lips, his heart resting easy when she took another sip and set the cup down on its coaster. She looked at him, crimson eyes usually deathly that were now satisfied.

“Well, I’ll be,” Celes commented. “You actually got it right this time. Bravo, Yamada-kun.”

“I only aim to please you, my lady!” Yamada stated, putting fists on his rotund hips proudly. “I am elated to hear I’ve satisfied your royal milk tea needs!”

“And to think it only took you four dishwater failures to accomplish it.” Celes took another sip of her royal milk tea, taking in the exquisite flavor of the drink. “At least I finally have my milk tea after waiting for so long.”

Celes took another sip of her fancy drink, expecting Yamada to leave the room now that he’d fulfilled his duties well for the most part (if one were to ignore the bits of broken china in the garbage and rags drenched with failed tea attempts in the sink). Much to her internal surprise, however, the Doujin Author had yet to do such a thing. Instead, when Celes looked at him, Yamada crossed an arm across his chest at a certain distance, bowing on one knee to his lady. He saw the raised eyebrow on Celes’ pale face, hiding his flustered emotion despite the sweat beads running down his chubby hamster-like face.

“May I help you, Yamada-kun?” Celes asked almost snidely.

“Well, Celestia-dono,” Yamada squeaked out, keeping his head bowed as some parts of his flesh turned ruddy. “As your, umm… humble Pig Boy, I always wish for nothing more than to please you! So, as a means of treating you… perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I took you out to a nice dinner later on in the week?”

The Gambler looked right at Yamada from the question, bewildered and surprised at such a proposal. While she was fully aware of the Doujin Author’s devotion to her, part of her passing it off as yet another act of chivalry, the thought of a fancy dinner did tickle Celes’ fancy quite a bit. Celes set her teacup down without saying anything, Yamada all the more nervous about what she’d say to him after. His worry seemed to slowly melt away when he finally saw the small smile on Celes’ face.

“...Very well,” Celes agreed to Yamada’s offer. “I shall accompany you to dinner this week. However, I have no intention of paying for all of it.”

“No need to worry about the fee, my lady!” Yamada exclaimed with reassurance, giving a salute to the Gambler. “The only thing you should look forward to in the endeavor is an exquisite meal! Eh, perhaps we could go to the restaurant you’ve had your sights on lately? What was it called…?”

“La Baie, dearie. That’s the one I have yet to visit.”

“Ah yes, correct! Would this coming Saturday at 8 pm work for you, Celes-dono?”

“Hmm… yes, I believe I’m free then.”

Yamada appeared visibly pleased at Celes’ agreement to his offer, the girl herself just as satisfied to have been invited to a fancy restaurant without having to lift a finger. Regardless, Celes felt a sense of gratitude at Yamada offering when he didn’t need to, his everlasting kindness towards her making the woman feel rather warm. But as she shooed him away for the time being and got up from her seat, Celes passed it off as nothing special and went about her merry way.

* * *

“...Darling…” a light voice was heard as the ears receiving started rising back to consciousness. “...Dear, please wake up…!”

“Huh-nuh…?” the tired Akane Owari snored, snapping awake and yawning as her vision cleared to see Sonia Nevermind next to her in the adjacent plane seat. “We in Novoselic already, Son?”

“No, Akane, the plane hasn’t even taken off yet,” Sonia corrected, keeping a gentle hand entwined with Akane’s. “You dozed off the minute you sat down.”

“Ah, that’s right…” Akane slumped cheek-first into her palm, eyes falling downwards with weariness. “Hey, babe, quick question: What’re yer parents like? Are they all hoity-toity like other kings an’ queens?”

“Hmm… well, Mother and Father do have their days, but that’s merely them being responsible rules. Besides that, I wouldn’t worry about anything else.”

“Oi, I don’t worry about nothin’, remember? What am I, some weak little girl who’s scared ‘a everything?”

“Oh, I know that very well, dearest.” Sonia paused, looking at Akane’s expression. “But I get the feeling something’s still on your mind. Would you mind sharing it?”

Akane flashed a glance at Sonia as the plane started moving slowly from the outside. One cheek puffed with air while the blonde Princess kept looking on at Akane, the Gymnast herself clamming up and refusing to say anything until Sonia changed her expression to a more irritated one. Sighing, Akane finally came clean and exchanged Sonia’s imaginary penny for her thoughts.

“Not that I’m worried or anythin’,” Akane insisted, “but… yer parents. They’re not gonna be all close-minded and grossed out about us, are they?”

“What? Is that what’s bothering you, Akane?” Sonia wondered. “Well, in that case, I wouldn’t be thinking about that too much. I’ve told Mother and Father about you, so there’s nothing they won’t expect.”

“Yeah, true.” Akane dug a bored finger into her ear, flicking off whatever stuck to the digit in another direction. “Still, the last thing I wanna deal with is more people lookin’ at us like we’re from outer space or somethin’. Especially my own girl’s parents.”

“My dearest one,” Sonia crooned, latching onto Akane’s arm affectionately as she rested her head in the Gymnast’s neck crook. “I’m sure Mother and Father will love you. I mean, if I do, then why shouldn’t they?”

“Because you're obviously not yer parents, now are ya?” Akane leaned her head towards Sonia's, returning the affectionate display.

“Well, in the off chance they do object, a reminder of a certain ‘previous event’ ought to change their minds.” Sonia looked up into Akane's weary brown eyes, the Princess’ green ones comparably more lively like the smile on her face. “Besides, at least we're not yet old enough to worry about true unity. A Novoselic royal custom is that should the Prince or Princess’ beloved fails to capture their Makango, they become the creature’s prey instead. And that's certainly something that's happened once or twice to my ancestors’ former lovers…”

Though accustomed to Sonia's rather morbid talk of her culture, this hadn't stopped Akane from looking even a little unnerved at the thought of being eaten. Sonia caught onto this and quickly started explaining further. At least that way, she could start looking forward to such a successful custom of true romantic unity down the road. While speaking, Sonia kept both hands cupped around Akane's, sandwiching them between the soft pale digits.

“Thankfully, I'm romantically involved with the best fighter I know!” Sonia added. “I'm sure when the time comes to face a golden Makango, we shall surely be wed!”

“Well, if I gotta beat somethin’ up, then marryin’ ya shouldn't be a problem!” Akane boasted, cracking her knuckles. “Hell, we might as well be sayin’ all that weird ‘I do’ crap now!”

“One day, my love. One day surely.”

Still holding both of Akane's hands tenderly, Sonia sat as far upright as the seat belt would consent and kissed Akane deeply until her tongue tip bypassed the lips. Akane immediately caught on and returned the favor, gripping Sonia's arms and sliding her own tongue and lips through the passage. The only thing that separated them was the sound of the Gymnast’s stomach rumbling in unison with the plane taking to the air towards Novoselic. As if on cue, a stewardess came by pushing a cart of snacks, which Akane immediately started asking for goods from. Watching her girlfriend take and pay for snacks to fill her stomach, Sonia laughed with a smile when the same girl started tackling away at the new purchases, apparently forgetting all about Novoselic at the moment.

* * *

Somewhere in a remote part of the city, five middle school-age athletic students remained in the proper crouched position at the starting line of a pool, goggles and swim caps secured on their heads. On the other side of the large pool were five more students perched near the ledge, ready to jump in on the proper command. The referee looked at his watch and started with the “On your mark… get set…” needed to completely prepare the swimmers for their starting time. Sitting in the stands amongst the vast crowd were Aoi Asahina and Sakura Oogami, both girls having their eyes staunchly on a boy who looked just like the former.

When the referee at last said “GO!” before firing off the non-lethal starting gun, all five swimmers dove into the water hands first until they were all underwater and moving fast. Everyone in the bleachers started cheering wildly for their particular swimmer, Asahina and Sakura doing the same.

“Come on, Yuta!” Asahina shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth so her brother would hear her. “Just keep swimming! I know you can do it! Don’t stop until you touch that ledge, got it?!”

Listening to his older sister cheer from the stands, Yuta kept pushing himself forward through the chlorinated blue water with magnificent front crawl strokes. While the boy jetted past his competition, he made it to the other side with only the drenched surface of his palm making contact with the ledge. Climbing out of the pool at the same time the other swimmer jumped in to keep such an important race going, Yuta caught his breath on the ledge and waved back to his cheering sister in the crowd.

“Knock ‘em dead, Yutie!” Asahina rooted, “Don’t lose focus for a second! Keep fighting on!” When the time came for Yuta to jump back in the water for the last time, Asahina kept cheering with the crowd.

“It appears efficient swimming skills run in the family,” Sakura commented with a small smile, keeping her arms folded.

“Pretty much! Even if Yuta keeps telling me I’m the better swimmer,” Asahina replied before turning her attention back to her brother. “YUTA! FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT! YOU’RE ALMOST THERE, LITTLE BROTHER! GOOOO!”

Relentless front crawl strokes carried Yuta forward, the boy neck-and-neck with his butterfly stroke swimming rival. Filled with more than enough perseverance, Yuta kept pushing himself forward through his chlorinated medium, reaching out and nearly gripping the pool concrete in unison with the loud buzzer. All the swimmers panted, standing up in the water as they looked at whatever the scoreboard had to say about their results. Much to at least three specific people situated in the pool room, the names for first place said none other than “Asahina Yuta” and whoever he swam the relay alongside.

“HAHA, YEAH!” Yuta cheered, slamming his fists in the water triumphantly and almost leaping upwards before throwing his balled hands up. He turned to the proud Asahina and Sakura in the crowd, pulling the goggles to his forehead to see clearly. “Aoi, I did it! I won, sis! I WON!”

Following the relay race, the top three winners were awarded with gold, silver, and bronze neck medals for their hard work and victories. From nearby, Asahina and Sakura kept their eyes on Yuta, who proudly accepted his gold medal beside his teammate. After the brief ceremony, the excited Yuta ran up to meet the girls, Asahina of course hugging her brother tightly out of pure pride for him.

“Look at my little champion!” Asahina boasted, finally letting go of Yuta. “You totally killed it out there, Yutie!”

“Gah, Aoi,” Yuta chuckled, flattered. “I’m still not nearly as good at swimming as you are! I’d bet no one would have stood a chance if it was you out there!”  
“Well, true as that may be, you still kicked some serious butt in that pool! I couldn’t be prouder of you, little brother! Was this your last event?”

“Yup! Now all I gotta do is dry off, change, and I’ll be ready to go!”

“Alright, hurry out, though. Sakura-chan and I are taking you out to celebrate!”

Asahina hugged her sopping brother once again before letting go of him so he could dry off and change. Triumphant as ever over his victory, Yuta went over to congratulate his teammate on a job well done before he went into the changing room as a means of changing. When he was out of sight, a smiling Asahina left with Sakura, who herself was just as proud of Yuta as the older sister.

“That’s quite a brother you have there,” Sakura commented. “I’m sure he’ll be as great as you one day, Asahina.”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” Asahina giggled, putting both arms behind her head as she kept walking towards the outside. “My Yutie’s practically a sports star! He's definitely gonna go to the big leagues one day! I just know it!”

While Asahina kept boasting about Yuta to the agreeing Sakura, Yuta himself came out of the locker room dried and dressed. Medal dangling from his neck and sports bag in his hand, he met up with the two girls as they headed out together to celebrate such a huge victory. The whole nine yards, Yuta took in Asahina's praise while also mentioning her own greatness, to which the Swimmer insisted he was just as amazing in her eyes.

* * *

“See you tomorrow, Ikusaba-san,” Naegi said to Mukuro at Hope's Peak that evening, hugging the florid Soldier farewell.

“Ghuhh-- b-bye!” Mukuro stuttered, returning the hug received from her secret crush. “I-I’ll definitely see you tomorrow, Naegi-kun!”

With another wave goodbye and smile, Naegi left his friend behind for the time being in a love-induced stupor. Mukuro found herself still waving and smiling with a ruddy expression, quickly stopping herself as she watched the love of her life leave for then. Walking towards the stairs for the Dormitory Wing on the first floor, Mukuro stopped when she heard a loud wordless shout.

Such a sound of exerted force came from the training room, prompting Mukuro to take a peek inside. Within the room walls was not only a lifelike kendō training dummy, but a masked stranger in full kendōka bōgu attacking it with a wooden shinai. The figure paid no heed to their new viewer, instead deflecting and striking each hit dealt by the artificial opponent. The dummy automatically swung its shinai towards the living person’s side, only for them to strike them directly downwards in the head.

“Men!” the person proclaimed during the strike. “Hidari-men!” was the exclamation that followed as the dummy was struck in the side of its head.

With a cry of the words “Kote!” and “Migi-do!”, the dummy fell to the side. The person who’d been training on it looked down, removing their helmet to reveal Ishimaru. On this face was a somewhat unnerved look, blinking as he kept his crimson eyes on how hard he’d hit the poor training tool.

“I guess I don’t know my own strength,” Ishimaru commented. “Well, that’s--” He turned to the door, noticing Mukuro staring at him with slight amazement. “Oh! Ikusaba-kun, fancy meeting you here! Did you want something?” Ishimaru asked with a smile.

“I never took you for the combat type, Ishimaru-kun,” Mukuro said. “How long have you been practicing kendō?”

“Since childhood. It’s quite important to keep my training up whenever I’m not tending to my studies! If I just stopped, then I’d lose an important skill in the process!”

“Ah… is kendō a difficult sport to pull off?”

“It can be at first, but after vigorous training and practice, you become quite a natural! Have you ever done kendō before, Ikusaba-kun? I’m sure someone with such an amazing combat prowess at least knows some techniques!”

“Uhh… no, I’ve never done kendō before. Sorry.”

“Oh!” Ishimaru scratched the back of his head somewhat sheepishly with a glove-covered hand. He then looked at Mukuro, who was still standing in front of him and looking at the fallen dummy. “Perhaps you’d like to learn? I’d be more than happy to teach you, Ikusaba-kun!”

Mukuro looked right at Ishimaru upon hearing his proposal. As mentioned to him none too long ago, the girl had scarce experience with kendō whatsoever. However, the thought of learning such an interesting sport peaked her rare interest, envisioning what it’d be like to acquire the skill. Not only that, but something in the Soldier’s heart was advising her to accept Ishimaru’s offer, mainly from a motive of growing closer with such a comforting boy. She hadn’t a clue what about him made her relax, but it urged her to fear nothing about Ishimaru.

“You really wouldn’t mind teaching me?” Mukuro asked.

“Of course not! Maybe if I do, you’ll not only get the hang of things, but we’ll also know each other a little better!” Ishimaru chirped. “So, would you like to learn kendō, Ikusaba-kun?”

“...Yes,” Mukuro agreed with a light smile. “I’d be more than happy to be taught by you, Ishimaru-kun.”

“Wonderful!” Ishimaru cheered, “We can start right away! Just let me get you a spare uniform and shinai so we can do just that! Oh, you won’t regret this, Ikusaba-kun!”

Ishimaru went over to the wardrobe in the corner of the room, searching through it and taking out full fledged bōgu and a wooden shinai. He handed them to Mukuro before giving her time to prepare. Within a minute or so, Mukuro adorned herself with the comfortable navy blue bōgu that matched Ishimaru’s, the Hall Monitor handing Mukuro a formidable shinai.

Both pulled their helmets down, Ishimaru telling Mukuro to stand at a good distance so they could start. The male went on to start explaining a basic kendō strikes, informing his opponent that it was all dependent on areas of the bōgu. From the topmost “Men” strike in the head to the “Kote” strike in the arms, Ishimaru was sure to be as detailed as possible so Mukuro would understand. After asking if she needed a repeat after a lengthy explanation, Mukuro decided she was all set and pulled her helmet down, the Hall Monitor following suit.

“Let’s start with a simple defense exercise, shall we?” Ishimaru inquired, raising his shinai and swiftly lowering it at Mukuro’s forearm. “Kote!”

“Hidari-Men!” Mukuro shouted, practically whacking Ishimaru in the left side of his head, causing the male to reel back in pain and grip the stricken area.

“Ouch… I felt that through this thick helmet…!” Ishimaru groaned, rubbing the spot. “That was… impressive for a first strike. But, Ikusaba-kun, kendō isn’t so much about offense as it is defense. Try a better method of deflecting your opponent depending on their strike without giving them a concussion.”

“O-Oh, sorry. May I try again, Sensei?”

“Eh? Oh, yes! There’s no need to feel bad. You’re just a beginner. Alright, try to deflect this…” Ishimaru levered the shinai upwards, aiming for Mukuro’s breastbone. “Tsuki!”

“Uhh-- Migi-Do!” Mukuro shouted, striking Ishimaru’s shinai in her aim for his right side. The two stood at a stalemate for a few seconds before Ishimaru decided to pull back his weapon, giving a thumbs up through a protective glove.

“Much better!” Ishimaru praised. “Keep this up, and you’ll practically be an expert!”

“Thank you, Ishimaru-kun,” Mukuro said sincerely, smiling behind her helmet. “I’m ready to continue with the lesson, please.”

Nodding once, Ishimaru called out another kendō strike, to which Mukuro deflected almost instantly. Without giving her a chance to prepare for the next, Ishimaru called out another strike towards the left side of Mukuro’s head, the Soldier swiftly blocking it with the proper defensive kendō strike. Although neither could see the other’s face, both were genuinely smiling from the exhilarating training session.

Ishimaru and Mukuro stood back from each other for a moment, linking their shinai together as a proper means to start the inaugural match between them. All the more, the two felt elated; as if they were growing closer with each strike. Though sure they’d never seen each other before that eventful Spring morning, Ishimaru and Mukuro still felt nothing but pure comfort towards one another, hearts pounding in near-unison from the other’s presence and persistence at the sport.

Little did either know that, in a forgotten world, they indeed held each other dear. And from that sparring session on, the two would spark yet another partnership anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Abridged!Barret voice* THERE. IT'S OVER. IT'S /DONE/. No, but seriously, I had so much fun writing this story! As a fan of Dangan Ronpa and Mirai Nikki/Future Diary, I'd say this has to have been my best idea for a story yet. Now, that may be just because it's the fastest I've finished a multi-chaptered fic, but I can tell you all agree! So, as a final word, thanks to all of you for reading and sticking by me the whole time! Hope to see you in my other works too!


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